RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A    PLAYER. 


One  hundred  and  tiventy  copies  printed 
on  American  hand-made  paper. 

'this  copy  is  No.  -j  ' 


0 


RECOLLECTIONS  OF  A 
PLAYER 


BY 


FRANCIS    WILSON 


NEW  YORK 

PRINTED  AT  THE  DEVINNE  PRESS 

1897 


Copyright,  1897,  by  Frank  E.  Hopkins. 


*  r     *-* 


To  "AL," 

whose  full  name  is 

ALBERT   H.  CANBY, 

who  has  shared  all  the  joys 

(there  never  were  any  sorrows,  that  I  remember) 

of  most  of  what 's  within,  this 

book  is  affectionately 

inscribed. 


493271 

ENGLISH 


NOTE. 

The  thanks  of  the  publishers  are  hereby  extended  to 
the  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company  for  permission  to  reprint 
that  portion  of  these  Recollections  which  originally  ap- 
peared in  Lippincott's  Magazine  for  January,  1891  ;  to 
Messrs.  Aimc  Dupont,  Falk,  Prince,  Schloss,  Anderson, 
and  Sarony,  photographers,  to  The  Century  Company, 
and  to  Mr.  Evert  Jansen  Wendell  and  Mr.  Peter  Gilsey  for 
courtesies  in  the  use  of  illustrations.  The  reproductions 
are  by  Mr.  Edward  Bierstadt,  of  New  York. 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


OPPOSITE    PAGE. 


Francis  Wilson,  signed Frontispiece. 

Emily  Von  Erdon  Wilson,  and  her  son    .     .     .  i 

Charles  Edwin  Wilson 8 

Mackin  and  Wilson i8 

William  Birch.      David  8.  Wambold.      Charles 

Backus.      William  Emerson 20 

Programs  of  the  San   Francisco    Minstrels   and 

Josh  Hart's  Theatre  Comique  Combination  .  20 

Ben  Cotton's  letter 21 

Professor  J.  Howard  Mahony 22 

"  A   Position  of  Respect."      Drawn  by   E.   W. 

Kemble 25 

Colonel  Thomas  H.  Monstery 26 

"Old  Friends" 28 

"  Doing  Serious  Business."     Drawn  by  E.  W. 

Kemble 31 

Annie  Pixley  as  M'liss 32 


X  Illustrations. 


OPPOSITE    PAGE. 


Program  of  "  Our  Goblins" 36 

Colonel    John    A.   McCaull.     J.    H.   Haverly. 

William  Bain  Gill.      Miss  Mira  Barrie      .      .    38 
Mr.  Wilson  as    The  Baron,  in   "  Our  Goblins." 
As  Don  Sancho,  in  "  The  Queen's  Lace  Hand- 
kerchief."     As  Prutchesko,  in  "  Apajune  "      .   41 

Program  of  "  Erminie  " 48 

Mr.  Wilson  as  Cadeaux,  in  "Erminie"    ...    50 
Mr.  Wilson   and   W.  S.  Daboll  as  Cadeaux  and 

Ravennes,  in  "Erminie" 52 

"  The     Little     Peach,"    facsimile     in     Eugene 

Field's  handwriting 54 

Miss  Marie  Jansen,  signed 56 

Program  of  "The  Oolah" 58 

Mr.  Wilson  as    The   Oolah.      J.  Cheever   Good- 
win.   Mr.  Wilson  as  Mellisen,  in  "The  Devil's 
Deputy."    As  Giuseppe,  in  "The  Gondoliers  "    60 
Mr.  Wilson  as  David,  in  "The  Rivals  "       .      .62 
Mr.  Wilson  as  The  Merry  Monarch     .      .      .      .65 
Mr.    Wilson    and    Charles    Plunkett    in   "The 

Merry  Monarch  "        66 

Program  of  " The  Merry  Monarch  "  .     ...   68 

Miss  Lulu  Glaser,  signed 70 

"John"    and    "Jess,"    the    cherubs    in    "The 
Merry  Monarch" 72 


Illustrations.  xi 

OPPOSITE    PAGE. 

Mr.   Wilson  as  Peter  Griggs,   in  "  The   Chief- 
tain " 74 

Mr.  Wilson  as  Tirechappe,  in  "  Half  a  King  "  .   j ^ 
Mr.   Wilson,    Miss    Glaser,    and    Mr.    Lang    in 

"Haifa  King" 76 

Mrs.  Mira  Barrie  Wilson,  signed 80 

"The  Orchard,"  New  Rochelle,  N.  Y.  .     .     .82 


ERRATA. 

Page  20,  line  5.      For  "James  A.  Hearne  "  read  "James  A.  Heme." 
Portrait  opposite  page  52.      For  "  W.  H.  Daboll  "  read  "  W.  S.  Daboll." 


EMILY  VON  ERDON  WILSON, 


AND  HER  SON. 


RECOLLECTIONS    OF    A    PLAYER. 

JOSEPH  JEFFERSON  once  said,  in  response 
to  a  question  put  to  him,  that  the  difference 
between  an  orator  and  an  actor  was  that  the  orator 
never  had  to  listen  ;  that  the  actor  not  only  had  to 
listen,  but  that  he  had  to  listen  as  if  he  had  never 
before  heard  what  was  being  told  to  him  for  per- 
haps the  thousandth  time.  Mr.  Jefferson  draws 
pretty  much  the  same  distinction  between  the  artist 
and  the  actor  —  the  artist  painting  a  picture  once, 
while  the  actor  paints  the  same  picture  night 
after  night,  but  always  (or  it  should  be  always) 
as  if  it  had  never  before  been  painted.  And  so  for 
hours  have  I  heard  this  prince  of  table-talkers  — 
this  actor,  orator,  artist,  writer,  connoisseur  —  dis- 
I 


2  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

course  seriously  and  eloquently  upon  his  own  and 
kindred  arts,  yielding  nothing  in  respect  and  appre- 
ciation to  these  arts  above  the  high  plane  upon 
which  he  has  placed  his  own.  I  have  heard  him 
tell,  with  pathetic  humor,  of  the  seamy  side  of  his 
life,  of  bitter  struggles,  disappointments,  heartburn- 
ings, and  mortifying  difficulties  that  would  greatly 
amaze  those  who  never  think  of  him  but  with  a 
smile,  as  one  born  to  a  life  of  laughter,  sunshine, 
and  roses. 

It  seems  strange  that  a  comedian  should  have 
anything  serious  in  his  history,  that  his  life  should 
be  punctuated  by  troubles  and  cares,  that  he 
should  be  born,  nurtured,  spanked,  and  dosed  with 
nasty  decoctions,  and,  finally,  that  there  should 
be  aught  in  his  days  but  merriment  and  laughter. 

A  popular  actor,  whose  funny  face  had  grown 
familiar  during  many  years  of  service  in  comedy, 
once  declared  that  it  was  his  firm  belief  that  if  he 
were  starving  and  begged  for  bread  on  Broadway 
he  would  get  nothing  but  laughter  to  appease  his 
hunger,  the  very  idea  of  John  T.  Raymond's  play- 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  3 

ing  the  part  of  a  beggar  would  be  so  amusing 
to  the  public. 

In  my  own  experience  I  can  recall  numerous 
instances  of  men  meeting  me  privately  for  the  first 
time  and  smiling  broadly  at  every  earnest  word 
I  uttered.  It  was  exasperating  at  first,  but  in  a 
little  while  I  became  used  to  it.  And,  after  all, 
why  should  one  wonder  at  it,  when  I  was  im- 
pressed by  stage  people  in  the  same  way  in  my 
younger  days?  I  never  thought  of  Edwin  Booth 
without  the  melancholy  aspect  of  Hamlet;  nor  of 
E.  L.  Davenport  without  the  keen,  avaricious  glare 
of  Sir  Giles  Overreach;  and  Edwin  Adams,  whether 
on  the  street  or  on  the  stage,  was  always  to  me 
poor,  broken-hearted   Enoch  Arden. 

So,  when  I  was  invited  to  publish  something 
like  an  autobiography,  I  hesitated  for  two  reasons: 
one,  because  my  readers  might  expect  something 
wholly  humorous,  and  the  other,  the  fear  that  I 
was  incapable  of  entertaining  them  with  the  story 
of  a  life  comparatively  uneventful;  for  matters 
and    things    that   were    important    enough    to    me 


4  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

might  be  prosy,  flat,  and  insignificant  to  the  casual 
reader.  I  was  made  happy  when  it  was  decided 
that  only  a  very  limited  edition  of  the  book  was 
to  be  issued.  I  knew  that  I  should  be  wholly  in 
the  hands  of  my  friends,  and  that  one  was  not  ne- 
cessarily a  reminiscence  simply  because  one  had 
promised  to  be  reminiscent. 

It  may  be  stated,  not  as  a  fact  of  remembrance, 
but  as  a  bit  of  hearsay  evidence,  that  I  began  my 
musical  career  in  Philadelphia  on  February  7, 
1854.  That  was  the  first  time  I  ever  used  my 
voice.  Indeed,  I  sometimes  think  that  it  was  used 
to  such  an  extent  in  those  days  of  infancy  that  it 
became  stunted  as  it  older  grew,  although  I  must 
confess  that  this  thought  is  not  wholly  original 
with  me,  but  has  been  so  frequently  suggested  by 
my  critics  that  it  has  become  a  rock-rooted  con- 
viction. There  are  still  left  to  me  a  few  friends 
who  do  not  dislike  the  quality  of  my  voice  and 
even  the  method  of  its  production ;  but  adherence 
to  this  appreciation  has  been  a  great  strain  upon 
their    friendship. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  5 

My  fondness  for  the  stage  could  not  have  been 
inherited,  for  none  of  my  family  had  ever  been 
associated  with  the  drama  in  any  way ;  in  fact, 
my  relatives  on  my  father's  side  were  members 
of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  naturally  enough 
looked  with  disfavor  upon  everything  theatrical. 
As  a  child  I  never  thought  and  scarcely  ever 
dreamed  of  anything  else  but  the  stage.  As  a 
result  of  seeing  Joseph  Proctor  in  "Nick  of  the 
Woods,"  the  usual  boyish  sports  were  neglected, 
and  bands  of  Indians  and  trappers  and  scouts  were 
formed;  the  Indians  tied  the  chief  (myself)  of  the 
latter  to  the  grocery-store  tree,  and  many  were 
the  thrilling  escapes  that  were  made  while  the  red- 
skins slept,  and  terrific  were  the  wooden-sword  con- 
tests waged  over  the  possession  of  some  flaxen-haired 
heroine  whose  frightened  mother  usually  routed  the 
whole  band  of  trappers  and  warriors  with  the 
business  end  of  a  broom. 

The  great  theatrical  ideal  of  my  boyish  fancy 
was  Lucille  Western.  Oh,  the  scrap-iron  I  have 
gathered,    the   trousers    I    have    shredded   and   sold 


6  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

as  rags,  to  procure  enough  to  purchase  a  gallery 
seat  to  see  Lucille  Western  in  "  The  French  Spy  "  ! 
And  one  Christmas  night  at  the  Walnut  Street 
Theater,  Philadelphia,  because  the  festal  season 
had  given  him  enough  money  to  buy  an  orchestra 
seat,  a  little  boy,  and  that  little  boy  myself,  might 
have  been  seen  perched  up  in  the  conductor's  chair 
(the  musicians,  because  of  the  great  crowd,  had 
abandoned  their  places),  the  most  interested  of 
spectators  at  the  performance  of  that  wonderful 
"French  Spy"!  The  boy  does  not  forget  the 
roar  of  applause  that  followed  "  Colonel  De 
Courcey's  "  speech  to  the  Turk  who  declared  that 
the  Americans  were  coming  to  fight  against  the 
French.  " 'T  is  false!"  cried  the  Colonel;  "the 
Americans  are  too  noble  in  war  and  too  magnani- 
mous in  peace  ever  to  ally  themselves  with  an  un- 
holy cause  !  " — lines  of  claptrap  which  the  boy  has 
since  come  to  know  were  introduced  to  catch  the 
ears  of  the  groundlings.  But  he  is  still  thrilled 
with  the  audacity  which  prompted  him,  when  Miss 
Western,    as    the    "Spy,"    came    quite    down    the 


Recollections  of  a  Player,  7 

stage  to  wrap  the  important  message  around  the 
arrow  she  was  to  speed  to  the  French  army,  to 
call  sotto  voce  to  her,  "Hello,  Lucille!"  It  was 
all  done  before  he  thought,  and  the  twinkle  the 
boy  saw  in  her  eye  is  as  bright  to  him  to-day  as  it 
was  on  that  Christmas  night  many  years  ago. 

I  can't  remember  when  first  I  begat  my  am- 
bition to  act.  I  know  I  was  nearly  ten  years  of 
age  when  my  hopes  were  realized  in  a  humble 
way.  I  was  dividing  my  attention  between  my 
school  studies  and  the  practice  of  jig-dancing  in  our 
cellar,  when  I  chanced  to  hear  that  a  man  known 
as  "Billy"  Wright,  who  played  in  a  concert-hall 
out  in  the  Kensington  district  of  Philadelphia,  had 
assisted  several  amateur  performers  to  obtain  en- 
gagements. I  sought  him,  and  after  he  had 
looked  my  little  figure  over  with  much  amuse- 
ment he  requested  me  to  show  him  how  much  I 
knew  about  dancing.  So,  while  he  whistled  the 
"Essence  of  Ole  Virginny  "  for  me,  I  jigged  away 
as  best  I  could.  He  complimented  me,  and  di- 
rected me  to  Sam  S.  Sanford,  who  then   managed 


8  Recolkctiofis  of  a  Player. 

a  minstrel  company  in  Third  Street,  far  uptown, 
by  whom  I  was  engaged.  I  was  christened  on 
the  playbills  "Master  Johnny." 

My  first  public  appearance  in  any  play  was 
made  in  the  familiar  negro  farce  "  The  Virginia 
Mummy."  Oh,  the  pride  I  felt  when  I  emerged 
from  that  dark  and  dingy  stage-door  up  a  dirty  alley 
after  my  initial  performance  !  At  last,  I  thought,  a 
foothold  had  been  secured  on  the  ladder  of  fame ! 

My  importance  as  a  factor  in  the  dramatic 
world  was  magnified  on  salary-day  upon  receiving 
my  earnings  entirely  in  pennies.  I  don't  remem- 
ber how  much  I  received, —  I  have  a  vague  idea 
that  some  is  still  due, —  for  the  amount  was  of  very 
little  consequence  to  me ;  the  glory  of  acting  and 
the  pleasure  of  knowing  that  my  name  was  actually 
on  the  pay-roll  of  the  theater  were  quite  enough 
for  me.  I  appeared  in  the  little  sketches,  danced 
and  sang  with  blackened  face,  and,  in  short,  per- 
formed about  anything   I   was  called  upon    to   do. 

My  parents  and  acquaintances  knew  nothing  of 
my  employment,  and  a  safe  means  of  effecting  egress 


m 


CHARLES    EDWIN  WILSON. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  9 

from  and  ingress  to  my  room  at  night  was  devised 
without  the  knowledge  of  any  one  of  the  house- 
hold. But  the  secret  was  soon  discovered,  despite 
my  precaution,  for  my  mother  found  that  the 
pillow-cases  showed  streaks  of  burnt-cork  which  a 
hurried  toilet  at  the  theater  had  failed  to  remove 
from  my  face,  and  she  noticed  that  I  displayed  un- 
precedented drowsiness  in  the  mornings.  I  was 
suspected,  watched,  and  detected,  and  then  began  a 
period  of  trials  and  bitter  disappointments. 

But  a  tew  weeks  of  exemplary  though  insincere 
conduct  gained  some  remission,  and  back  I  went 
to  Sanford's.  I  was  again  found  out,  and  repri- 
manded; but  I  had  grown  bolder  and  more  deter- 
mined by  this  time,  and  frequently  I  threw  off 
all  restraints,  and  twice  ran  away  from  home  to  join 
some  strolling  company. 

Once,  I  remember,  I  went  with  a  performer 
named  Fayette  Welch  to  play  with  a  company 
stationed  at  Alexandria,  Virginia.  The  city  was 
under  military  patrol,  and  our  audiences  were  made 
up  of  soldiers.  How  distinctly  I  remember  going 
2 


I  o  Recollections  of  a  Player, 

up  and  down  the  stairs  of  the  Marshall  House  — 
those  same  stairs  on  which  young  Colonel  Ells- 
worth lost  his  life,  and  down  which  his  slayer  was 
bayoneted   to  death. 

The  theater  was  situated  on  the  second  floor  of 
a  dry-goods  store,  and  a  fife-and-drum  concert  was 
given  each  evening  before  the  performance,  very 
much  after  the  manner  of  an  auctioneer  ringing 
his  bell   to  announce  his  sale. 

I  was  mischievous,  and  worried  Welch  so  much  in 
one  way  and  another  that  he  sent  me  back  to  Phila- 
delphia. The  return  was  made  with  a  crisp  two- 
dollar  bill  and  some  clothes  in  a  handkerchief  slung 
over  a  much-used  sword,  a  present  from  an  ama- 
teur negro  tragedian  whom  I  had  taught  how  to 
make  the  death-fall  of  Richard  the  Third.  I  have 
great  respect  for  that  sword,  for  I  believe  the  glitter 
of  it  saved  me  from  the  punishment  I  deserved  for 
my  cruel  absence  from  home,  where  I  was  mourned 
as  dead.  Occasionally  I  took  part  in  some  amateur 
performance,  and  was  styled  on  the  programs 
"the  youthful  tenor." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  1 1 

I  was  a  great  admirer  of  E.  L.  Davenport,  and  I 
kept  secret  the  belief  that  if  I  could  but  gain  an 
interview  with  him  his  interest  might  be  excited 
in  my  ambitious  hopes.  But  I  was  afraid  to  speak 
frankly  to  any  one  of  this  desire  to  meet  the 
tragedian ;  for  most  of  my  associates  in  business 
would  have  ridiculed  the  idea  of  such  a  youngster  as 
I  seeking  an  engagement  in  a  legitimate  theater. 

At  every  opportunity  I  would  go  to  the  Chestnut 
Street  Theater  and  watch  this  fine  actor  with  the 
keenest  appreciation,  and  the  more  I  saw  of  the 
drama  the  stronger  became  the  desire  to  obtain 
employment  near  the  great   Davenport. 

One  day  I  took  into  my  confidence  my  old 
friend  Sanford,  and  begged  him  to  secure  for  me 
an  interview  with  the  tragedian-manager.  Of 
course  he  was  astonished  at  this  effrontery  ;  yet  he 
kindly  penned  a  very  complimentary  letter  of  in- 
troduction  to  him,  and  wished  me  good  luck. 

But  now  that  I  had  what  seemed  to  me  to  be 
a  certain  open-sesame  to  a  dramatic  career  in  my 
hands,  I  was  too  much  dazed  by  my  good  fortune 


1 2  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

to  act  without  calm  deliberation.  Realizing  that 
I  was  about  to  enter  the  august  presence  of  the 
great  tragedian,  I  wanted  to  study  well  how  to  ap- 
proach him. 

I  went  to  Fairmount  Park,  hugging  closely  that 
precious  bit  of  script,  and  walked  the  by-paths 
and  pondered.  How  would  he  receive  me  ? 
Would  he  still  wear  that  piercing,  suspicious  mien 
of  Sir  Giles  that  I  had  seen  so  often  from  my 
gallery  seat  ?  Or  would  he,  as  I  faintly  hoped,  hear 
me  tell  through  the  story  of  my  fondest  dreams, 
and,  grasping  me  by  the  hand,  bid  me  welcome 
to   the   threshold   of  a    glorious   dramatic   career  ? 

That  flattering  letter  from  my  first  patron  made 
me  feel  that  his  greeting  could  not  be  other  than 
kindly.  What  did  it  say  ?  As  I  stopped  on  the 
bridge  crossing  the  Schuylkill  River  I  drew  the 
valued  epistle  from  my  pocket  to  peruse  it  for 
the  fiftieth  time.  A  whifF  of  wind,  a  sudden 
grab  in  the  air,  a  cry  of  despair,  and  that  letter 
was  sailing  away  in  the  breeze  down  toward  the 
swift  stream. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  1 3 

Oh,  what  a  bitter  blow  its  loss  was!  But  it 
was  gone;  and  somehow  I  never  mustered  up 
enough  courage  to  ask  Sanford  for  another  letter. 
So  back  I  went  with  a  heavy  heart  to  my  burnt- 
cork  and  jig-steps  at   the  minstrel  hall. 

About  this  time  I  met  a  boy  named  James 
Mackin,  who  was  the  partner  of  one  named  Sul- 
livan, both  of  them  clog-dancers.  Mackin  liked 
me,  and  out  of  our  intimacy  came  an  indefinite 
sort  of  agreement  that  at  some  time  we  would 
unite  our  talents  and  travel  in  partnership.  There 
was  now  no  need  ot  running  away  from  home 
to  act  upon  the  stage;  reverses  of  fortune  mad^ 
whatever  income  I  could  earn  not  only  welcome 
but  of  actual  necessity. 

In  the  summer,  as  there  were  no  minstrel  com- 
panies, I  took  to  the  concerts  given  after  the 
performances  of  the  circuses.  It  seemed  to  make 
very  little  difference  where  I  played  only  so  I 
played.  Here  was  every  facility  for  learning  acro- 
batic tricks  of  all  kinds,  and  I  seldom  hesitated  to 
acquire   knowledge   of  any    description,    from    the 


14  Recollectio7is  of  a  Player. 

conjugation  of  a  French  verb  to  the  pottery-marks 
on  porcelain.  But  the  travel  was  hard,  and  I  vv^as 
such  a  puny  little  boy  that  nobody  seemed  to  in- 
terest himself  in  me ;  and  while  I  could  sell  more 
concert  tickets — from  sympathy,  I  think — than 
anybody  else,  I  got  no  knowledge  of  acrobatics 
from  my  connection  with  the  circus,  except  so  far 
as  observation  might  help. 

I  kept  my  eyes  and  ears  open,  and  shall  not 
soon  forget  the  strange  sights  and  incidents  of  that 
summer  with  the  Rosston,  Springer,  and  Henderson 
Circus. 

I  remember  that  the  band  of  Bedouin  Arabs,  in- 
stead of  going  to  the  hotel  for  supper  after  the  day's 
performance,  would  raise  the  side  of  the  dressing- 
room  tent,  and,  sitting  cross-legged  in  a  circle, 
would  eat  figs  and  drink  iced  water.  It  was  a  bit 
of  the  Sahara  Desert  set  down  in  some  small  Penn- 
sylvania or  Ohio  town. 

I  remember  how  indignant  I  was  at  a  fellow 
named  Wambold,  who  would  maltreat  his  trained 
dogs    because    they   failed    to   do   some   trick   they 


Recol/ections  of  a  Player.  1 5 

had  not  well  understood ;  and  how  I  went  outside 
the  tent  and  danced  for  joy  when  an  acrobat  named 
Badeau  caught  Wambold  by  the  throat  and  threat- 
ened to  thrash  him  if  he  ever  ill-used  the  dogs 
again. 

The  cannon-ball  man  —  George  Cutler,  a  mass 
of  muscle  and  good  looks  —  used  to  take  especial 
delight  in  saying  unkind  things,  and  I  remember 
how  widely  he  opened  his  eyes  in  astonishment 
one  day,  when  he  had  been  unusually  nasty  to 
me,  when  I  reminded  him  quietly  that  it  was 
no  credit  to  him  to  be  cruel  to  a  little  boy. 
And  don't  I  remember  how  he  picked  me  up 
in  his  great  arms  as  if  I  had  been  a  chip,  and 
exhibiting  me  to  the  clown,  the  bareback  rider, 
the  lion -tamer,  and  all  his  other  dressing-room 
companions,  apologized  to  me,  and  said  I  was  quite 
a  little  gentleman.  He  was  my  friend  until  the 
day  I  left  the  company. 

This  leaving  was  somewhat  under  a  cloud.  I 
had  bought  a  gold  watch  on  the  instalment  plan 
from  the  trombone -player,  and  this  purchase  com- 


1 6  Recollections  of  a  P layer. 

ing  to  the  ears  of  the  proprietor,  Mr.  Springer,  I 
was  requested  to  explain  how  I  could  make  so 
expensive  a  purchase  on  so  small  a  salary.  I  inti- 
mated to  Mr.  Springer  that  the  nature  of  his  in- 
quiry was  reflective,  and  declined  to  discuss  the 
matter;  for  which  I  was  discharged.  Not  being 
able  to  pay  the  balance  due  on  the  timepiece,  I 
was  forced  to  return  it  to  its  former  German  owner, 
who  charged  me  a  liberal  percentage  for  the  return 
of  my  money. 

Before  joining  the  Rosston,  Springer,  and  Hen- 
derson Circus  1  had  been  in  the  "concert"  of  a  sort 
of  all-star  circus  performers'  company,  the  name  of 
which  I  forget,  but  which  was  headed  by  such 
lights  as  Kelly,  the  great  leaper,  "Pete"  Conklin, 
the  clown,  and  John  Conklin,  the  strong  man 
and  ringmaster.  There  was  no  menagerie,  and 
the  company  traveled  by  two  canal-boats,  which 
were  specially   fitted  out  for  the  purpose. 

I  have  mentioned  this  company  to  recall  one 
of  the  funniest  incidents  I  ever  witnessed.  One 
boat    was    used    for    the    circus    trappings,    horses, 


Recollections  of  a  Player,  17 

etc. ;  the  other  for  the  dining-room,  sleeping-rooms, 
and  bunks  of  the  people.  This  boat,  comparatively 
lightly  laden,  performed  all  sorts  of  gyrations  at  the 
mercy  of  the  wind. 

One  night,  when  all  "  were  wrapped  in  slumber 
deep,"  the  capricious  wind  blew  the  boat  against 
the  stone  abutment  of  a  lock.  The  water  pouring 
over  the  lock  gave  the  impression  to  the  startled 
sleepers  that  the  boat  was  going  down  and  that 
the  water  was  rushing  into   the  vessel. 

"  She  's  sinking  !  "  some  one  cried  ;  and  then 
ensued  a  scene  I  shall  never  forget.  There  was  a 
waving  of  sheets  and  bare  legs  in  the  air ;  yells  and 
cries  of  despair  ;  a  crashing  of  chairs  and  the  long 
dining-room  table.  One  man  dived  from  his  top 
bunk  through  the  head  of  the  big  bass-drum,  and 
another  broke  his  leg  over  the  large  fiddle-box. 
Just  what  awful  thing  might  have  happened  it  is 
hard  to  tell,  if  a  boy's  penetrating  treble  voice  had 
not  shouted  out  what  had  been  told  him  the  day 
before,  that  there  was  not  over  three  feet  of  water 
in  the  canal. 


1 8  Recollections  of  a  Player, 

There  was  a  sudden  lull,  and  then  a  wild  shout 
of  laughter,  in  which  everybody  joined  except  the 
man  with  the  broken  leg  and  the  individual  who 
had  gone  through  the  big  drum  —  which  had 
made  a  sad  spectacle  of  its  invader's  nose. 

I  did  not  regret  leaving  the  circus,  for  I  was  not 
far  from  Mackin,  who  was  awaiting  me  at  Indi- 
anapolis. We  there  agreed  to  tour  the  country 
under  the  professional  name  of  "  Mackin  and  Wil- 
son," and  devote  ourselves  entirely  to  minstrelsy. 

Mackin  was  a  very  clever  dancer,  and  together  we 
labored  very  hard  and  successfully  to  make  a  good 
business  reputation.  We  decided  to  add  a  gymnastic 
trick  or  two  to  our  songs  and  dances,  and  many  were 
the  weary  hours  given  up  to  somersaults,  "flipflaps," 
and  neck-springs,  which  were  practised  for  weeks 
together  in  an  abandoned  ice-house  on  the  outskirts 
of  Indianapolis.  We  were  a  merry  crowd  of  boys 
in  that  ice-house,  as  two  or  three  of  Indianapolis's 
most  respected  merchants,  who,  as  youngsters,  be- 
came capital  gymnasts,  will  testify.  Mackin  and 
I  soon  won  recognition  as  capable  artists,  our  first 


r     I    ir 

MACKIN  AND  WILSON. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  1 9 

success  being  made  at  the  Howard  Athensum, 
Boston,  when  it  was  under  the  management  of 
that  Mrs.  Partington  of  the  drama,  John  Stetson, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  we  were  called  to  New 
York  to  join  Birch,  Wambold,  and  Backus's  "  San 
Francisco   Minstrels." 

After  a  long  term  before  metropolitan  audiences, 
we  were  complimented  with  enough  public  favor 
to  insure  ourselves  ready  engagement  in  any  of 
the  first-class  minstrel  organizations,  and  the  late 
"Tom"  Maguire,  whose  name  is  associated  with 
the  early  dramatic  history  of  the  Pacific  Coast,  sum- 
moned us  to  San  Francisco  to  become  members  of 
one  of  the  most  notable  minstrel  companies  ever 
organized.  Under  the  leadership  of"  Billy  "  Emer- 
son, the  "  Big  Sun-Flower "  and  "  Nicodemus 
Johnson  "  man,  who  with  his  sweet  voice  and 
graceful  dancing  was  then  a  great  favorite  through- 
out the  country,  we  played  for  some  months  in 
San  Francisco,  in  the  little  hall  on  Bush  Street, 
between  Kearney  and  Montgomery,  now  known  as 
the  Standard  Theater. 


20 


Recollections  of  a  Player. 


While  there  I  sought  every  opportunity  to  see 
the  admirable  performances  given  in  the  Baldwin 
Theater,  where  a  stock  company  was  maintained 
with  such  sterling  actors  in  its  ranks  as  James 
A.  Hearne,  James  O'Neil,  Louis  James,  W.  H. 
Crane,  M.  A.  Kennedy,  and  "Ned"  Buckley,  most 
of  whom  have  since  risen  to  eminence.  My  de- 
sire to  enter  the  dramatic  field  had  never  abated, 
and  there  were  few  nights  during  my  stay  in  the 
city  on  which  I  did  not  hurry  from  the  minstrel 
hall  up  to  the  Baldwin  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
current  plays. 

I  remember  with  especial  pleasure  the  perform- 
ances given  there  by  Barry  Sullivan,  the  English 
tragedian.  His  Richard  the  Third  was  a  revela- 
tion to  me,  and  his  fight  with  Richmond  one  of 
the  most  realistic  sword-combats  I  have  ever 
witnessed. 

William  H.  Crane  divined  my  inclination  to- 
ward the  legitimate  branches  of  my  profession,  and 
it  was  he  who  gave  me  the  first  words  of  hearty 
encouragement  to   persevere    in    my  purpose.      He 


William   Birch. 


David  S.  Wambold. 


Charles  Backus. 


William   Emerson. 


j^an  ^nnnm  ^insttrk 


ENTERTAINMENT   A   LA   SALON. 

onxTDU aut  T&AMcsaoo  uKirrHKU 

Anaa^  bj  W.  &  Mnlktr. 

■ALLiP.  "lwMllil>lH'»»y*w^' ■»,  C  BroOLFH 

OOICOORTT Hr.OBAALnAlOXtn 

ULLAD,   "Uttte  IMr." 

Mr  D.  &  WAlCMaJ> 

OOWO  EKTEAIX,  ••Solid  Ofa^M  to  lb*  Fmil." 

Mi.  BILLT  BIBOB 

BALLAD^      Von'l  /ja  Bof  ■;  PrvU;  P>o«at«.' 

Ut.  OUlLBCDOLPH 

miU.  efMd  MadWr US  FUV0900  KOTnEIJ 


,PART  MECOND-^n*  Tlnioiui,-'  hj  Iteokanf 


Ir  Dnhl*  •««  DKl  Dion. 


ASH  SAT! 


ADD  BTUR  OR  THE  T0nC8  OF  THE  DAT 


THE  BACKUS  PICTURES. 


The  Black  Nightingale, 

n  TBI 

OOBm  BOLD,  -       -      Hr.  ABTHDK  BENT 


It  vtth  tM  (odtlr  Or« 


CLOTILDE 

Or,  tHE  fiAUlS£D  EEAET. 


Sosi^oj^  l!'SsJS¥l(iJ, 


BOSTON,  TUESDAY,  JlJliT  28,  1874. 


THEAffiE'^mQ^loMBINATlON 

(.V'ran  S14  Brtuulway,  New  York.) 

I0B)ilTtl!iJ4l.  -   -   •   •   Mmiffl  lE  LiTODT.  -  DlltclBr  Bf  UBttKili 

«r  l>«lM  lotto  p««  vwMf  Md  Wnfikarik*  pragnaa*,  Mlf  TWO  «iDarH  «u 


OVKBri^K  ( 


•)  - 


DAVB    MmAHAX    AMD  nBCMWrTRA 


*LPno'i»oD*tUMro.'i na.  billy  bibcb 

Ruilpbu  Bimnitoa  Hr  Add  Himu 

pMfUfLO'tmUM Mr.  a.  u.  Mban 

S*b>*lUB  FMn>«glHi , Mr  c    Hoda  (6  I 

ADjwtai  •uanwvUlt. „,. Ut  »  B   t^lHko  I 

/o«pta. _...«- ..      .  Mr  rwil«ool 

Ciodi4a  Lnrnlaa  , „ n,  cbAtiiy  BHkDi 

■•■rlOB  TiirtrU Mr  T   M   ltlcwdi> 

ImIOMdIh) ,. Ht.  J   T.  Lir(n«»lol 

Som*  1  Ot\itd  SttMO  In  [k«  rat«0r  Bo«*  of  CloU'd*  iham  ib>  [>«wlt  o(  J. 
.  Hold-,  Mm),  neau*  1-  Tli*  iut  ''banibar  of  Ui*  Ea«l  Wlai  (ti>  NutorlA* 
ttoMH.)    8cn>*l.    Bf-m  L*kao(  U>.  Or<r  04t  OB(Bb.biO*t«.i  I 

T»bl»oi-l   41v«.     ■  r-^tmlOL    I   l<nM«<.     «  Mum       1.  Lui*     <   F*^ 


PAICCLT  KATIlTEE,"'SK*J..tr?'«.«''- 


OaCHESTKA  AST)  PAfiQCETTB. OSE  DOLLaB 

FAMILV  CIRCLE     FOTV  CENT* 

PRIVATE  BOIEH   " 


.  .nVZ  AND  SIX  DOLLAB^ 


Mm.  w.  a.  HOVTam.. 


iwd[  "y  s  T  e:  ii"5r 

X  0"'!« Mr.  .lOHS  WHJ> 

L1J.  iib*B Kr.  Jaau  >KAftiaf  I  K*.  HA«t»T Uf.  Oio.  L.  Mvm 

■  .  Vam yr.  jAsn  F.  OMmu  ( Hwui  Ajn  DvaoM  Na.  .  .KmlMibtib 


TtoPHfe*«wi 

to; 


rArttiirm  momsm kch  ji,/cc  mmtmfrr 


Jlurttta  t»d  n*n^  Or1(<&Bl  PUMMtoe  8»ruA,  «ilUI*4 
I'NUUl  fxric,  «iiti  ehi<iy  .  Ml    ED.  BAaKIOAN  |  LUOB Hr.  TO^V  UART 

Am*riea'»   S«rle*Oomto.      .       .      -        ■       Misb   JCNNlt   MtltL 

Iiiaoollifiiu-.  g(Or1«tBalOBaiMew<fsli>atBdlMtor«aU*»Ur4n.AO  SORO. 

laoiA  aOBBBA  eOHO  aid  DAIuE.  hy  U*  W«dn      -  ^ -    _■_   USt.  HASTii 

Mr  JahD  WllJ->  LMgtiabl*  Spwdallr,  •aUUtd 

GOING     FOR     THE.CUPI 


Th«  Tilented  »nd  Beiotiful  fOY  SlSieftS.     -     -     -     ■     BERTHA  AND  IDA 

|..  ib*li  odclDkl  Ha^  uid  !>•»<•  Skawba*, 
"  MftL.  MAMICB  I  •'     "  Orl'i^M'  0>II>'  Da»r  '  bt  Klu  IDA   FOY^  uj  <'!'<)  Lit*  tu  br  ■ 
^^  BolJi.f."  by  HBHTHA  a-d  IDA.  _ 

Mr.  JAMES  W   MM£.      -       ■       -       -"      CHARACTER  COmIc  SONQS 


!^  "THE  MULLIGAN  BQAflDS!" 


BIt.l.'T'     OaHTKU      In      his     BANJO      SOLOS 

MISS    NULLV    PIERIS 


•       IN    HER    BEAUTIFUL    80N06 
HACKtN  and  WILSOS  in  ihHr  9*mg;  Dame«a  amd  8k«Uh^» 


•t^bm.  hit 
.  ■aUlMa 


^m^nt^%9  s9eA)crx.sT 


TUB  TKnHIBLX  BlAMPDI  . 

Mr     rUKOfHILrS  DCOUIMUBB.  .   . 

r-BCftrTAUV  DUF»T 


.  Mr  JOBV  WILD 
.Mr  B.  HABBIOAK 
,  .  Mr  TOinr  HAKT 
.  .   .Ut.i.f  CaOuiH 

llr,  Kabti* 

.  Ml  Jauw  S»*oht 


ii KAN1>    MATIKEB» WKPygSPAY   Mid    8ATTTBDAY 


I  uLAM»m»  ro  fc»r  a 


I  tM  rmm  rmoxr  x,oaBT. 


TWO    MINSTREL   COMPANIES    IN  WHICH 
MACKIN   AND   WILSON   APPEARED. 


(jP  Oi^iiZ^    K  '     ^-U-n^t^tfc    ^-"yi/lyX^x^i/^-C^ 


C^A  co-1^  ^A-^       U  o-'\^     i-v^^L^    -<//i^-^^   /u^-ijx/ Oi^x^ 


i 


p 


Cii^i. 


/     .  'I  "  j'  ■  / 

y   Ccctvtw   CU^yi,   /"Cie^/C  /71-i-ct/v    Cv-v^cC  7 -LL  )fO-^  Cf^vc^t    <?<^^ 


/     ,-'  s  ^  (I    ^  ' ^ ^ / ■     /     J  i         / /. 
\        'J-    '^    /        ^.   / 


^-JA.    ^^^ 


U 0-<-vtyi    4-1^   rUXt^  Oui4uyj\^ 


.} 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  21 

was  generous  enough  to  say  unreservedly  that  he 
beHeved  I  would  succeed  if  I  should  make  the 
trial,  and  out  of  his  friendly  yet  candid  and  honest 
advice  there  was  a  quickening  impulse  imparted 
to  my  ambition ;  better  still,  his  kindly  interest 
in  me,  and  my  admiration  for  him,  both  as  actor 
and  man,  created  a  feeling  of  mutual  affection 
that  has  never  diminished  in  all  these  succeeding 
years. 

Returning,  we  joined  Arlington,  Cotton,  and 
Kemble's  Minstrels,  located  at  Myers's  Opera 
House,  Chicago.  While  acting  with  this  company 
I  obtained  much  valuable  experience  in  my  profes- 
sion, for  our  programs  were  very  carefully  prepared, 
and  included  many  elaborate  burlesques  of  current 
dramatic  successes,  and  occasionally  a  pantomime, 
in  which   I  was  usually   the  harlequin. 

Samuel  Myers,  himself  an  old  actor  and  asso- 
ciate of  the  late  J.  H.  McVicker,  represented  the 
moneyed  interest  of  this  truly  admirable  organiza- 
tion, and  he  was  ably  seconded  by  Mr.  John  R. 
Kemble,  an   artist,   actor,   and    manager  whose  as- 


22  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

sociation  with  minstrelsy  lent  it  a  dignity  that 
this  rapidly  departing  form  of  amusement  has  never 
known  since. 

We  remained  in  Chicago  for  two  years,  and 
then  returned  to  New  York  to  play  an  engagement 
in  Josh  Hart's  Theatre  Comique  on  Broadway. 
Harrigan  and  Hart  were  the  principal  members 
of  the   company  engaged   there. 

About  this  time  I  made  the  acquaintance  of  a 
man  who  became  an  invaluable  friend  and  mentor 
to  me,  John  H.  Mahony,  who  was  then  and  is 
still  the  principal  of  Trinity  Chapel  School  in  New 
York.  I  found  not  only  a  most  congenial  com- 
panion, but  an  associate  who  opened  up  before  me 
opportunities  to  continue  an  education  that  had 
been  interrupted  by  my  infatuation  for  the  stage. 
We  became  firm  friends,  and  later  we  lived  to- 
gether. He  was  a  wonderful  teacher,  for  not 
only  was  he  thoroughly  and  accurately  informed 
in  many  branches  of  scholastic  knowledge,  but 
he  also  possessed  that  which  is  so  rare  in  teachers, 
the    faculty    of  imparting   his   information    in    the 


PROFESSOR  J.   HOWARD    MAHONY. 


Recollectio7is  of  a  Player.  23 

simplest  and  most  logical  form.  I  had  a  great 
deal  of  leisure  time,  and  became  his  pupil,  con- 
tinuing under  his  instruction  for  several  years. 

Previous  to  this,  when  in  Chicago,  I  went  to  a 
business  college  to  revive  my  dormant  studies. 
Being  quite  well  known  by  that  time  as  a  min- 
strel performer,  I  purposely  kept  my  identity  a  se- 
cret from  both  my  tutors  and  my  fellow  scholars, 
not  caring  to  be  plied  with  questions  and  attentions 
on  that  account.  But  after  a  l&vi  months  it  was 
discovered  that  I  was  one  of  the  Myers's  Opera 
House  comedians,  and  the  obsequious  manners  of 
my  associates  in  the  class  were  so  annoying  that  I 
left  the  school  at  once,  but  with  very  great  regret, 
for  I  had  much  sport  there  in  the  construction  of 
comic  sentences  for  analysis  by  the  scholars  —  an 
exercise  provocative  of  much  laughter.  When  the 
association  with  Mr.  Mahony  in  New  York  began 
I  was  eager  enough  to  embrace  this  new  chance  to 
resume  my  studies. 

In  the  mean  time  trouble  had  been  brewing 
between    Mackin    and    me.      There    was   little   in 


24  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

common  between  us,  and  after  the  first  few- 
months  our  relations  were  wholly  of  a  business 
nature. 

He  knew  of  my  aspirations  for  a  more  legitimate 
sphere  of  acting,  and  he  often  derided  me  for  my 
temerity  in  looking  upward.  Had  he  confined  his 
taunts  to  verbal  strictures  they  might  have  been 
borne  in  silence,  for  I  had  but  little  respect  for 
his  opinions ;  but  once  he  resorted  to  his  fists  to 
drive  the  ambition  out  of  my  head.  He  was  skilled 
a  little  in  the  science  of  boxing,  while  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  practice,  and  I  realized  that  there- 
after he  would  be  certain  to  presume  upon  my 
ignorance  and  humiliate  me  on  every  possible 
occasion. 

I  was  determined  not  only  to  put  a  check  to  his 
abuse,  but  to  pay  him  back  in  full  for  the  rough 
usage  I  had  sustained  at  his  hands.  I  sought  Col- 
onel T.  H.  Monstery,  a  celebrated  teacher  of  self- 
defense,  and  in  a  short  while  acquired  sufficient 
knowledge  of  the  use  of  my  fists  to  compete  with 
my  pugnacious   partner;    and   this   I    did  with  the 


Recollections  of  a  Player. 


25 


result  that  I  succeeded  in  establishing  myself  in 
what  was,  at  least  to  all  outward  appearances,  a 
position   of  respect  in  his  estimation. 


"  A     POSITION    OK    RESPECT. 


This  association  with  Colonel  Monstery  devel- 
oped into  a  warm  friendship,  and  I  became  an 
enthusiastic  pupil  of  boxing  and  swordsmanship  to 
him,  as  had  Junius  Brutus  Booth,  Frank  Mayo, 
and  many  such  before  me  ;  and  even  now  when  I 
go  to  Chicago,  where  he  resides,  my  old  master 
and  I  have  many  an  enjoyable  bout  with  the  foils. 
4 


26  Reco/Iectiofts  of  a  Player. 

At  his  earnest  solicitation  I  entered  for  the 
sword-contests  in  the  New  York  Athletic  Club 
games  at  Gilmore's  Garden  in  1878,  and  through 
his  careful  coaching  succeeded  in  winning  the  ama- 
teur championship  of  America. 

I  ought  to  explain  that,  aside  from  a  natural  in- 
terest I  had  always  felt  in  contests  of  an  athletic 
nature,  I  had  been  urged  forward  in  my  sword- 
practice  by  the  hope  that  the  accomplishment 
would  better  fit  me  for  a  dramatic  career,  and 
by  having  read  in  Ree's  "  Life  of  Edwin  Forrest," 
that  the  three  accomplishments  deemed  absolutely 
necessary  to  an  actor  were  singing,  dancing,  and 
swordsmanship  —  grace  of  voice,  feet,  and  body. 
I  seem  always  to  have  been  able  to  dance,  and  so 
I  devoted  myself  to  vocal  culture  and  the  small 
sword.  My  inclinations  were  all  toward  tragedy. 
Indeed,  many  of  the  Shaksperian  parts  had  already 
been  faithfully  committed  to  memory.  Later,  as  a 
test,  I  repeated  the  entire  play  of  "  Hamlet  " —  the 
acting  version — without  a  book,  and  with  but  few 
mistakes.      I    must  add,   though,   that  it   was   after 


^ 


Col.    Thomas   H.    Monstery.  Teaching  Self-Defense. 


\ 


Colonel  Monstery   "In  Extension." 


Recol/ectiofis  of  a  Player.  27 

the  piece  had  been  rehearsed  daily  for  a  month, 
and  had  been  playing  for  the  same  length  of  time. 

I  was  now  (1877)  twenty-three  years  old,  and 
realized  that  I  had  not  a  moment  to  lose  if  I  ever 
hoped  to  gain  that  most  valuable  schooling,  a  stock- 
theater  experience.  The  system  of  combinations 
was  fast  crowding  out  stock  companies  when  I 
made  an  application  to  William  D.  Gemmill,  of 
the  Chestnut  Street  Theater,  Philadelphia,  for  a 
position   in   his  theater  for  the  following  year. 

From  one  hundred  dollars  a  week  to  fifteen  is  a 
financial  dash  downward,  truly,  but  that  was  what 
was  offered,  and  that  was  what  I  unhesitatingly  ac- 
cepted. For  many  years  previously  I  had  prepared 
for  just  such  an  emergency,  and  I  was  ready  and 
happy  when  it  came.  The  period  of  my  pro- 
bation in   minstrelsy  was  at  an   end. 

One  day  in  this  season  Charles  Bradshaw,  the 
comedian  of  the  company,  brought  me  a  request 
from  the  principal  actors  of  the  Chestnut  Street 
Theater  to  become  fencing-master  to  the  stock 
company,    and    I    gladly    complied    with    it.      Our 


28  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

class  comprised,  besides  Mr.  Bradshaw,  the  late 
William  E.  Sheridan,  William  J.  Ferguson,  Frank 
W.  Sanger,  now  part  owner  of  the  Empire  Theater 
in  New  York,  my  late  manager  A.  H.  Canby,  and 
a  few  others. 

They  liked  me,  and  I  was  equally  fond  of  them  ; 
and  I  can  recall  many  happy  occasions  on  that 
same  stage  trodden  by  my  venerated  Davenport. 

It  was  during  our  after-midnight  walks  and 
our  fanciful  dreams  of  the  future  that  Canby  and 
I  really  laid  the  foundation  of  The  Francis  Wilson 
Comic  Opera  Company,  although  neither  of  us 
thought  at  that  time  of  comic  opera  as  a  field  of 
operation.  With  feet  dangling  from  Philadelphia 
grocery-store  coal-boxes,  many  and  varied  were 
the  schemes  we  discussed,  all  having  for  their 
ultimate   object   fame   and   success. 

In  the  season  of  1 878-79,  at  the  Chestnut  Street 
Theater,  Philadelphia,  I  became  regularly  enrolled 
in  my  first  dramatic  company,  to  which  the  season 
previous  I  had  given  lessons  in  fencing.  At  last 
my  perseverance  had  been  rewarded,  and  the  results 


Sam.  S.  Sanford. 


^^^^f  Hubbard   T.  Smith. 


^ 


Frank   W.  Sanger. 
"OLD  FRIENDS." 


Recollectio?is  of  a  Player.  29 

were  in  my  own  hands.  The  position  of  a  utility 
man  did  not  afford  much  opportunity  to  win 
great  dramatic  laurels,  but  it  did  enable  me  to 
study  well  the  rudiments  ot  the  new  branch  of 
my  profession,   and  every   opportunity  was  seized. 

My  first  part  was  Cool,  in  "London  Assurance," 
for  which  the  critics  gave  me  many  encouraging 
words. 

One  day  I  was  cast  for  Farmer  Banks  in  "Wild 
Oats."  The  role  was  one  in  which  I  had  to  re- 
fuse some  one  admission  to  my  house  —  save  over 
my  dead  body  !  How  I  gloried  in  that  particular 
speech.  But  at  a  rehearsal  it  was  thought  that  a 
fellow  actor  named  Harry  Bave, —  a  hatter  by  day 
and  an  actor  by  night, —  to  whom  the  lines  of 
Lamp  were  given,  was  not  qualified,  and  that  small 
comedy  part  was  assigned  to  me.  Up  to  this  time 
my  wish  was  for  the  serious  and  the  tragic  char- 
acters, yet  I  did  my  best  to  act  the  broken-down 
theatrical  manager  to  the  life,  and  I  remember  that 
I  took  the  part  and  studied  it  around  and  about 
Forrest's  house,  at  the  corner  of  Broad  and  Master 


3°  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

streets,  with  some  sort  of  a  vague  notion  or  hope 
that  this  course  would  inspire  me  to  greater  success. 
And  I  did  succeed.  I  recollect,  too,  how  at  my 
mother's  bedside  that  night,  when  I  excitedly  nar- 
rated the  experience  of  the  evening, —  the  laughter, 
the  applause,  and  oh,  best  of  all,  the  glory  of  that 
first  call,  when  the  scene  had  to  be  interrupted  to 
permit  it, —  she  and  I  wept  for  joy  at  the  sweet- 
ness of  it  all.  Is  there  anything  in  this  world 
that  can  exceed  a  mother's  confidence  in  her 
son's  success?  While  she  rejoiced  with  me,  I 
remember  I  was  greatly  astonished  at  the  calm 
confidence  she  expressed  in  successes  still  to  come. 

The  salary  continued  at  fifteen  dollars  all  that 
season,  but  I  felt  that  I  had  a  million  dollars' 
worth  of  glory  as  compensation.  William  Daly, 
who  was  the  stage-manager,  remarked  as  I  came 
off  the  stage, 

"Young  man,  you  keep  on  like  that  and  you  '11 
be  playing  principal  comedy  roles  next  season." 

Then  looking  me  over,  he  exclaimed,  disdain- 
fully, 


Recollections  of  a  Player. 


31 


"  The  idea  of  a  fellow  with  such  legs  and  such 
a   nose  aspiring  to  do  serious  business!" 

I  thought  my  ability  was  highly  complimented 
at  the  expense  of  other  qualities. 


DOING    SERIOUS    BUSINESS. 


But  they  might  say  what  they  liked,  I  had 
tasted  of  the  glory  of  a  "curtain  call,"  and,  bet- 
ter still,  I  had  that  inward  pride  of  knowing  that 
I  had  made  no  mistake  in  my  vocation.  The  suc- 
cess of  my  appearance  as  Lamp  caused  me  to  turn 


32  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

my  attention  with  much  determination  toward 
comedy  parts,  and  from  that  time  forth  all  expec- 
tation of  success  in   tragedy  was  abandoned. 

My  ambition  and  expectation  were  to  work  for 
success,  and  the  serious  side  of  stage  life  presented 
that  view  to  me.  I  still  experience  the  sense  of 
relief  that  came  to  me  when  I  felt  that  all  I 
had  to  do  was  to  give  my  attention  to  the  humor- 
ous side  of  the  drama — which  accorded  so  well 
with  the  impudence  and  health  of  youth  that  were 
mine.  That  was  going  to  be  no  worlz  for  me;  it 
was  just  play;  and  I  have  been  playing  ever  since. 

This  season  of  1878-79  was  an  important  one 
for  me,  as  it  added  a  vast  fund  of  valuable  infor- 
mation to  my  experience.  At  the  close  of  the 
theater's  regular  season  I  accepted  an  offer  to  play 
The  Judge  in  Clay  Greene's  drama  "  M'liss,"  in 
which  the  late  Annie  Pixley  was  successfully  star- 
ring. Later  on  during  that  spring  tour  of  ten 
weeks'  duration  I  gave  up  The  Judge  to  imperso- 
nate Templeton  Fake  in  the  same  piece.  At  the 
beginning    of  the   following    season  I   returned    to 


ANNIE  PIXLEY  AS  M'LISS. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  33 

the  Chestnut  Street  Theater  and  played  all  the 
second  comedy  characters.  During  this  year  Sam 
Gerridge,  in  "Caste,"  fell  to  my  lot,  as  did  Ser- 
geant "Jones,  in  "  Ours,"  characters  always  as- 
signed to  the  first  comedian ;  and  I  was  successful 
enough  to  command  much  applause  from  the 
audience  and  many  pleasant  words  from  my  ac- 
tor associates. 

I  did  not  realize  how  much  I  had  grown,  men- 
tally and  professionally,  until  I  was  summoned  to 
the  stage  door  one  night  just  before  the  overture 
was  called,  to  meet  the  solicitation  of  my  former 
associate,  Mackin,  to  return  with  him  to  our  part- 
nership and  minstrelsy.  Though  I  gave  him  no 
sign  of  it,  I  was  as  proud  as  forty  peacocks  of  the 
position  I  had  won,  and  though  but  a  few  months 
away  from  burnt-cork,  my  association  with  it 
seemed  as  a  dream. 

I  would  not  have  it  understood  that  I  am  lack- 
ing in  respect  and  appreciation  of  this  branch  of 
our  profession.  It  was  for  me  a  means  to  an  end, 
and  I  am  not  only  grateful  to  it  for  the  many  use- 

5 


34  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

ful  things  I  learned  in  it,  and  for  the  opportunity  it 
gave  me  first  to  face  a  public,  but  as  well  for  the 
splendid  income  which  for  a  number  of  years  it 
afforded  me  and  mine  when  the  reverses  of  fortune 
made  that  income  a  blessing. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Mrs.  John  Drew  one  night,  as 
the  All  Star  "Rivals"  Company  of  1896  sat  down 
to  their  dinner  in  the  dining-car,  "  that  there  are 
very  few  men  in  this  company  who  have  not  been 
connected  at  one  time  or  another  with  minstrelsy." 

"  For  years  I  danced  *  Jim  Crow  '  in  black-face 
in  imitation  of  Jim-Crow  Rice,"  said  Mr.  Jefferson. 

"I  was  on  the  tambourine  end  of  Pell's  Min- 
strels," added  W.  H.  Crane.  "  And  Edwin  Booth 
told  me  at  Lawrence  Barrett's  house  in  Cohasset 
that  he  played  the  banjo  in  a  minstrel  company  in 
which  also  John  S.  Clarke  was  *  Brudder  Bones.'  " 

"  And,"  spoke  up  Nat  Goodwin,  "  you  know, 
Wilson,  that  /  was  in  the  minstrel  business,  for 
you  and  I  were  in  the  same  company  —  Emerson's 
Minstrels,  at  Chicago,  in  the  fall  of '85." 

But  before  the  expiration  of  the  season  of  i  879- 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  3  5 

1880,  the  Chestnut  Street  Theater  management 
not  having  proved  a  success,  salaries  being  paid  ir- 
regularly, and  a  good  opportunity  presenting  itself 
to  play  more  important  roles  at  a  vast  increase 
of  income,  I  obtained  a  release  and  joined  Gill 
and  Mitchell's  little  musical-comedy  company, 
known  as  Mitchell's  Pleasure  Party,  playing  "Our 
Goblins,"  by  William  Gill.  The  part  assigned  to 
me  was  a  serio-comic  heavy  part  termed  The  Baron, 
which  had  hitherto  called  for  the  services  of  a  bass 
singer.  I  was  told  to  do  my  best  to  elaborate  it 
within  the  bounds  of  consistency,  and  I  set  to  work 
to  mold  it  into  a  comedy  character.  I  succeeded, 
and  was  reengaged  at  a  very  considerable  increase 
of  salary  for  the  second  season.  It  was  among  the 
first  and  best  of  the  "Troubadour"  plays,  and  we 
had  a  highly  successful  run  at  the  Fourteenth  Street 
Theater,  New  York,  when  that  house  was  under 
the  management  of  J.  H.  Haverly.  Afterwards 
we  journeyed  the  country  very  thoroughly,  and 
were  quite  prosperous. 

In   the   meantime,  enough   money  had  been   put 


36  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

by  out  of  my  income  to  increase  my  bank-account 
(already  supplied  from  the  savings  of  my  minstrel 
days)  to  what  to  me  was  quite  a  substantial  sum, 
and  I  married  Miss  Mira  Barrie,  of  Chicago,  pur- 
chased a  two-thirds  interest  in  **  Our  Goblins," 
and  started  westward  to  present  the  piece  in  San 
Francisco.  That  trip  was  a  most  disastrous  one, 
and  misfortunes  came  upon  us  thick  and  fast. 

First,  Manager  Locke,  of  the  Bush  Street 
Theater,  at  which  we  opened  our  engagement, 
was  in  financial  difficulties,  and  his  creditors  closed 
its  doors,  compelling  us  to  move  our  performance 
across  the  street  to  the  Standard  Theater,  where 
years  before  I  had  appeared  as  a  member  of  Emer- 
son's Minstrels. 

Night  after  night  we  looked  out  upon  little  else 
than  empty  seats,  until  we  finally  decided  to  give 
up  "Our  Goblins"  and  employ  the  services  of  our 
company  in  something  more  desirable  to  the  San 
Francisco  public. 

"  Pinafore "  had  made  its  remarkable  success, 
and  we  produced   it.      We  gave  a  very  good  per- 


Haverly's  14ih  St.  Thea,ire. 

J    H.   HAVCRLT.  Pruuiielod  .uul  Mi.iL.ROi 

HARRY    MAMN.  ......  .  AtU.ie  Ma.wp;! 

TkUMimu 1L.  II    LI  l>U>«r    i    AorsxaiH  au«>t W    II    Kn;i>-kl  t\l> 

Aamiavt  TvsMvan WM.  UL.*i-K       Hw«n  lUBrasm  .; AUTtiPtt  U.  llh'K 

UvmcAM.  UiBocTu*  ..  <)B><    W>wn(i1l       rv>n>fia»    >t     fiMKt-ll   «)(«V 

Eh-Katc     «ircn                                    Wy    J     K>-riKiCi>  I    i)u    (■■,-a«H>B»r       ...    .      .     ..          Tllix.   WiHtli 

Monday  Evening.  June  14,  and  during  the  Week. 
William  C.  Mitchell's  Pleasure  Party 

TliU.^i-ii  n^;  ojll  i-r-KRl  ll>.   Mii-'i.-iil  fMro.i.;.. ■>/>>.  tn  twn  .u-l>.  wnlioi  l.j  Wui.  (itll. 
miu.1.   .m.ui^.^t  i.i..l  iM.lh  .-.■,u^-■^■\  Uy  *:.„    !,>.-,.  I,' .  i.lill.  .1 

Or,  FON  ON  THE  RHINE  IN  GERMANY. 

Written— <'4ira|>iliil—l1airro«>'<l  —  KrHr<-lHil  fttr,  uihI  Hiuilljt  }^A  at  Itjr  WiM.utw  (iiit, 
lullluir  ()lM|iutn||  of  ••  IM^^  •!•  Ik*  ir-iWn,"  "  V>n/iV  Mififvf."  (in  >i»ijiii>il»<li  Willi 
Henry  J.  Itvo-n  iti><l  Kniwiinl  I'liilio:  •  H-fr-r.."  dot  wl.i.-l.  1.>  «ill  ui.>r  r.>ru<i<- 
kilon-lf).  kAiI  -*  U«r<'/rrs.'  fu  («m<til  .-»»•  ■  4,  [iii  «lii£li  lli'o.  II  J<«i|i.  "A  U'ltll'- 
OUD  tnua  Nrwlit.">!>  n«|hutiii1i)i  1i)  ku'  .l»<ir.  i 

CHARACTERS  IN  THE  PLEASURE  PARTY. 
HKNJAMIN   t'KANKMN  roltll    nrrhirnL-n;     .     \V||,I.|AN   iU\X 

OCTAVID8  LOHOPEIXOW  WA;18LGR    .1   l^^i.n.   AUOUSUS  J.  BRJHO 

Forii-rlv  ..I   !■    I'    (i.i.i|.ii.,  T-'uri-l/. 
AUIRCD  COMSTOCK  UILVsRUIHE  (.•(  I>»lwll<  i         FRANCIB   WILSON 
MiB    a  r   COBB    I  ■'tl--  |riin.li|  l-ii-t  li.^Ifi   .  M^  EUNOR  DCERINO 

MumTnXIB&T  ADBYN  drnt.  I.ni;  vitli  lli<  4'"M.  KmikIji  Mim  AUY  00RIX)N 

CHARACTERS  IN  THE   NIGHTMARE. 

LUDOTICO.  (iilt<tiirD<'l  Wiu>n<  r  r     ini«ill>ii^l;  |>n-c>|»t«t<'a  ii>U>  m 

M^  of  core)  In  a  Ki'iill<  iii.iii  otr'iii^U  r>i><  iiililiii^  .  . .    ,   B>  P.  BOBB 

BARON   ADOLiTB  YON  BCHWARTZTHUUIUI.  t-   ViIIaiiiod. 

V"ri.  with  «>i<.iai  lontJ-  r  won  n  |uw.Iitii>'  »Uil   n>l>U  ry  n  luxm  Inm-  

&t*'lk)  by  AK<i'iI<uim>  "troiiKlv  r<- iiihliiii-  .  A-  C  SILVBRMIVB 

ntAHZ   <»    Ml^-lrrlot    Ibr    fTUxl       M- l.~li,.<t»    v-l   titondj.      Lovr 

■icJi  Ti^  lo^nv  )     Ht  It  K'liil'  "I'^Q  --(r.-ni^hlrx-  »il>lini!  O.  L-  WARBXtBR 

CODNTbaS  AOATOA  VOlf  BMlTUi^RS  «»  \Vi.k..l    Ivuly      A 

miilarc  of  Utlv  IUcl>«th,  fUnl-y  r^nnpUl)  ••  Utdlry  SUv. .  Mar; 
_        tJUKlrnoD,  utd  ft  OoMof  Vim-gmr  lt;u«rM.>     fy  n  Lulj'  lUnmuty 

wcmblipg M«*  B.  P.  COBB 

WlLHBLMUfA  (a  iMTvecatml  auUilaa.     H(Mi<«tJr  iDlld.  *aA  uitl- 

liflaooHly  KifL-D  to  uelodkMMlT  mwuidvriiw. )    By  a  Iwly  Btnuiul; 

nMmblJikK T7. K1MTZL1.1B  BT  AOBYN 


Synopsis  of  Scenery,  Mualc  end   Incldenu. 

ACT  L 

OCESEr-A  AidMri  Owdl*  «•  fiU  >^-Amd  bank  of  tJU  MiM-  <u  y^  lUrma  tlu 

rivrr.     The   Anehcan   pleMon    p*rtT       Duina    thf   Rblnv-      Trio      "linlUr  of  <>ar 

DnddiM  I "    Uim  St  Aabyn.  8ilv«r«ui«  uul  wublrr.     r^bb  wd  hi-  n«w)y  aamod 

brid*.     Po«try,  MUbbIm  and   tvooAcilutiae.    Cooewrtcd   pirc*.  "K«XctMl  ^nd  Un- 

br«U*  Clob."  by  u«  PlfMw«  Puty.     Mow  po#try.  morf  •ott»bbl<»,  nut*  ivctncilU- 

lion.    Ckoru  utd   Aabm.     "Tfc«  Twtli»(bl  Cotwir,'   by  t£«   Pl^Maf*   P»m      Th« 

ClUACM  Qn«Mtwn.  and  lh«  •■  AvxA  AoAHi''  and  I>»Uc*o>u  «y  »'.vMv       '  rrlfkt«t«d 

Chora*.- by  tfa«  FlMwar«  Party.     Tb»  *»ry  <!f  (fct  (W>Uiw  </ tt*  Ow*  ^    Flotid  ObI- 

b(it«t,  *'C«nnl  di  VaniM."  'rilU*  8L  Anbyn.    Tfaa  dMappoiiklsivDtl     JK>  UokAI 

.V(v  catf  nrtaJMf  wtiirry  («nbt«eiiiR  tetc«tloiM  fwoi  Ch)v«a  of  Morauui'ly  -Ptnafeiw 

D*T»   Bi^iun—Npgro  Con certJ«nj— Modem  HTinB«x*«  and   Prog  Op<-r»,|by  thf 

ricMorr   Party      The  dpj»rtnr«  f  r  Lanoh      ("obb'«  Mliag  fmni  Orae*      Tbc-Mra- 

,^^..„.  Mu>.^It.n......n  .,  tfinnipf-..^^       Pj^-I-      ■M^i.fin  lb.  A.r"  mri-^lil^rWii., 

ACT  11 
SCENE— Ab  b«-forr.  bnt  r«aovat^  The  Awalirncd  TrarrlU'r  and  tbo  llyst«ri- 
eoa  Mudcn.  Lot.-  Bi>llad.'  Wilbdioina  SudiUn  appwinuir-  of  the  HauRbt^ 
Baion.  Trio:  -Spare  the  Slrangcr."  Wilhr|mm-».  Cobb  und  Huron.  Tbo  Bwon  • 
nite  nnd  Lu.loTieo*  deapair.  Da<-1  Aod  Dhuc^.  Baron  lUi-l  Ludovi,-o.  -nie  Lo»c- 
Sick  UiDxtt^l.  Stonny  ScenM.  Double  iSonR  (of  wvcogr)  and  danc*  (of  firn.liat 
nnUik'miv  )  Baron  Rud  Fninz.  The  Wickwi  Coont.-«  Mid  the  Rrtnmod  Wan-lcrrr 
DiioU  ■■  ilic  Enchanted  GuKur. "  Wilhtlioiurt  and  Lu.lovico.  Thr  (  ount.'»a»  cajolun«; 
LudovitOB  loKiibnoasness ;  the  Baron's  brnngadoiio  ,  the  Mini.lr«ls  mwtry,  and 
Wilhtflmina'a  W  re  tubed  nos».  cnlniinnting  in  a  iojucsbtid  riKCE  n»  the  kkvh  r*MaT 
Emol.onH  too  Domoroiw  to  mcnUon.  "  Another  W.di-  River  to  cro«i.('2nnU»u.  and 
chorns.  "  FareweH.  Genta,"  Qa«rt«tt«%  Connt«fc  Ludovico.  Baron  and  Front  Tb« 
'  Bloo.lv  C«ol«.t  between  Ludovico  and  Fmni.  and  Ihp  utill  more  d«apent«  bWORD 
CONTEST  between  ihe  Bftion  and  LndoYico  A  Sckmk  of  HoMoRa.  Th.-  return  o. 
th«  LoDcb  EAt*iB.     Grand  Fioalc^     "  lABgbing  Cborua.'  by  tha  FtaMaat  Party. 


Tbi-  Orcbt*tm,  unncr  tike  dirrcUnn  of  Mr,  Geo.  Bowhon,  vrill  perform  tJie  fol- 
ne  Belt^ciions:  ,   . 

OVER  rimE~- Feat."      '■«'""» 

SELECTIOS— ■■Bocmceio." •^"Pl" 


MaUnet'it  Wednesday  «fc  Saturday  at  2  P.M, 

Si«~Funiitu"te  uaed  lu  thlTrhcatre  is  from  the  Waier  joma  of  Mr.  JAH£S 

ORAHAM.  No  19  Eaat  14tb  St. " 

■^JEWELERS.    BANKERS    &   DROOOISTS     FIHB    SCALES.    -HOWE 

8?ALD   CO  "  ^  BRO  AjWAY-  ^^ , _^ 

HaRRINa*3   Pail:.t   QHAMPIO'*  xA'='ES  w  u— d  at  H>v»rty'a  TheaUe 


OPERA    GLASSES    FOR    HIRE    BY    THE    CHIEF    USHER. 


I 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  37 

formance  of  the  opera,  although  I  remember  that 
my  Admiral  Porter,  K.  C.  B.,  was  not  an  effort  in 
which   I   took   much  pride. 

It  was  with  something  akin  to  a  heavy  heart  that 
I  sat  at  the  Httle  wooden  table  and  paid  out  to  the 
actors  and  creditors  —  in  gold  —  (money  looks  so 
much  more  valuable  in  gold,  particularly  money 
that  has  been  earned  in  driblets  and  by  hard 
work)  all  that  I  had  laboriously  accumulated  for 
two  or  three  years  past. 

This  was  the  money  which  my  newly  made  wife 
and  I  had  been  so  undecided  how  to  spend,  whether 
in  a  European  trip  —  the  first  —  or  in  the  seem- 
ingly perfectly  safe  investment  of  taking  to  San 
Francisco  this  play  of  "Our  Goblins,"  which  every- 
where else  had  met  with  much  success. 

It  was  all  over,  and  we  had  paid  palace-car  fares 
back  to  New  York  and  were  aboard  the  train  at 
Oakland  looking  vacantly  at  each  other,  thinking 
of  the  glories  of  eastern  travel  and  delights  that 
might  have  been  ours. 

Suddenly  the  true  state  of  affairs  seemed  to  strike 


38  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

us  simultaneously, —  that  we  were  young,  had 
health  and  a  future,  and  had  just  finished  an  experi- 
ence by  which  we  could  not  choose  but  profit, — 
and  we  laughed  all  care  away  on  the  instant. 
Nor  since  have  I  ever  grieved  over  that  disastrous 
first  venture  as  a  manager. 

I  now  began  to  fisel  that  I  could  be  successful  in 
comic  opera,  and  I  continued  to  lay  my  plans  in 
that  direction.  Our  San  Francisco  venture  was  a 
complete  financial  failure,  and  I  returned  to  the  East 
almost  without  a  dollar  to  my  credit. 

Colonel  John  A.  McCaull,  the  comic-opera  man- 
ager, was  conducting  a  company  playing  in  the 
Bijou  Theater,  New  York.  To  him  application 
was  made  one  day.  I  was  really  much  in  need  of 
employment,  but  I  determined  that  he  should  not 
discover  the  truth  ;  so  when  he  inquired  how  much 
salary  was  wanted,  I  said  one  hundred  dollars  per 
week. 

He  laughed,  saying  he  was  n't  going  to  give 
such  a  sum  to  a  man  whose  ability  he  had  never 
seen  tested  in  comic  opera. 


Col.   John  A.  McCaull. 


|.  H.  Haverly. 


William  Bain   Gill. 


Miss   Mira   Barrie. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  39 

"  All  right,"  I  replied,  as  I  went  away. 

We  met  again,  and  he  accosted  me  with , 

"  Well,  young  man,  what  is  your  salary  to-day  ?" 

"  One  hundred  dollars,"  was  the  reply,  with  em- 
phasis. 

'*  I  '11  give  you  fifty,  and  call  it  a  bargain,"  he 
said. 

"  No,  Colonel,  I  can't  lower  my  price,"  I  said, 
as   I   departed. 

A  third  time  we  met  on  the  street,  and  he  laugh- 
ingly asked, 

"  How  about  that  salary  to-day  ?  " 

"  Just  the  same  as  last  week,"  I  replied  ;  "  one 
hundred  dollars." 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then,  extending  his 
hand  to  me,  answered, 

"Well,  I  think  I  '11  'go  you'  one  hundred  a 
week  to  try  my  luck." 

So  we  made  a  contract,  and  I  appeared  with  his 
company  a  tew  weeks  later  in  the  South  Broad 
Street  Theater,  Philadelphia  (afterwards  called  Mc- 
Caull's    Opera    House),  as   Don    Sancho    in    "  The 


4°  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

Queen's  Lace  Handkerchief."  The  field  was  a 
new  one,  the  salary  high,  and  much  was  expected  of 
me  on  the  first  night, —  very  much  more  than  was 
realized, —  and  as  I  stood  leaning  against  a  rail 
thinking  over  the  matter,  McCaull's  bluff  "  Well, 

you  were  pretty  d d  bad,  were  n't  you  ? "  was 

anything  but  reassuring.  However,  I  had  marked 
out  the  squares,  and  with  his  permission  I  gradually 
but  surely  filled  them  in  so  satisfactorily  that  before 
long  he  had  voluntarily  increased  my  salary  and 
constantly  referred  to  me  as  his  protege,  his  "find." 
This  opera  was  continued  for  a  prosperous  run  of 
many  weeks  in   Philadelphia. 

We  went  to  New  York  when  Colonel  McCaull 
became  the  manager  of  the  amusements  at  the 
New  York  Casino,  and  opened  that  house  with 
"The  Queen's  Lace  Handkerchief,"  which  was 
followed  by  a  production  of  "  The  Princess  of 
Trebizonde,"  I  appearing  as  Tremolini.  It  is  a 
matter  of  much  pride  to  reflect  that  McCaull's 
fortunes,  which  were  so  low  at  the  time  of  my 
joining  him,  improved  steadily  from  that  moment, 


Mr.  Wilson  as  THE   BARO\, 
IN    "Our   Goblins." 


As  PRUTCHESKO, 

IN     "APAJUNE." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  41 

nor  did  they  ever  retrograde  during  the  period 
of  my  engagement  to  him.  I  seemed  to  be  not 
only  his  protege,  but   his  mascot. 

Later  we  gave  "  Prince  Methusalem,"  in  which 
I  enjoyed  playing  Sigisniumi  very  much,  and  "  The 
Dotlet  on  the  Eye"  song  did  a  great  deal  to  excite 
the  popular  taste  for  topical  verses. 

Then  we  returned  to  Philadelphia  and  presented 
"The  Merry  War,"  in  which  Balthazar  the  tulip- 
grower  fell  to  my  care.  "  Falka "  followed,  I 
playing  Folbach,  and  at  the  close  of  that  season 
I   went   to   Europe  for  a  summer  vacation. 

On  my  return  I  began  my  next  season  with 
McCaull  in  the  New  York  Casino,  appearing  in 
"Apajune"  as  Prutchesko,  the  rakish  but  wrong- 
fully suspected  husband,  which  was  to  me  one  of 
the  most  enjoyable  parts  I  had  ever  played. 

I  gave  a  burlesque  of  Mr.  Jules  Levy,  the  famous 
cornetist,  in  one  of  the  scenes  of  this  opera.  One 
evening,  just  as  I  was  preparing  myself  for  this 
imitation,  I  caught  sight  of  the  real  Levy  looking 
down  upon  me  from  a  near  box. 
6 


42  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

I  was  nonplussed  for  the  moment,  and  the 
audience,  realizing  the  situation  at  once,  laughed 
uproariously.  But  I  had  the  pleasure  at  the  con- 
clusion of  seeing  the  great  virtuoso  lead  the 
applause  with  much  vigor  and  seemingly  unmis- 
takable evidences  of  keen  enjoyment.  I  say  seem- 
ingly, because  some  days  later  when  I  met  him  he 
inquired  solicitously  if  he  went  through  such  gyra- 
tions when  he  played  the  "horn  "  as  I  had  indicated 
in  my  imitation.  I  replied  that  I  thought  he  did — 
in  a  much  less  exaggerated  manner.  "Well,"  he 
said,  tucking  his  monocle  into  his  eye  and  looking 
dubiously  out  of  the  other,  "  What  an  'owling 
idiot  I  must  be  !  "  Notwithstanding  which.  Levy 
and  I  became  good  friends  from  that  evening. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  McCaull  en- 
gagement a  trip  was  made  to  San  Francisco,  where 
"The  Queen's  Lace  Handkerchief"  and  "The 
Merry   War  "    were   given  with  fair  success. 

On  the  way  to  the  occidental  city,  a  night's  stop 
was  made  at  Omaha,  where  a  performance  of 
the   first-named    opera    was    given,    in    the    course 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  43 

of  which  our  baritone,  William  T.  Carleton,  sang 
an  introduced  song  entitled  "  Woman,  Fair 
Woman,"  the  cue  for  the  prelude  to  which  was 
"  Oh,  woman,  lovely  woman,  what  would  one 
not  do  for  thy  sweet  sake!" — after  speaking  which 
Carleton  would  then  make  the  conventional  up- 
stage tour  to  fill  out  the  time  to  the  first  note  of 
the  ballad. 

As  he  turned  toward  the  wings  I  set  before  his 
eyes,  but  out  of  the  audience's  view,  a  horrible 
caricature  of  a  woman  I  had  found  among  the 
rubbish    of  the    "property-room." 

It  so  disconcerted  Carleton  that  he  made  three 
ineff^ectual  efforts  to  sing,  and  then  burst  out 
laughing  and  was  obliged  to  explain  to  the  audi- 
ence that  something  ridiculous  had  happened  be- 
hind the  scenes,  and,  convulsed  as  he  was,  it  was 
impossible  to  sing  a  serious  song. 

The  effect  upon  me  was  as  surprising  as  upon 
Carleton.  I  never  dreamed  that  an  artist  of  so 
extended  a  stage  experience  could  not  better  con- 
trol his  feelings.      I  had  great  difficulty  in  making 


44  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

my  peace  with  Colonel  McCaull,  who  was  justly 
incensed  at  this  violent  infraction  of  stage  dis- 
cipline, and  I  succeeded  in  pacifying  him  only 
by  my  earnest  assurance  that  I  had  no  thought 
to  injure  the  performance,  but  had  acted  solely 
from    a   spontaneous    outburst    of  good-feeling. 

He  forgave  me,  but  declared  that  only  the 
"spontaneous  outburst  of  good-feeling"  had  saved 
me.  I  have  a  distinct  recollection,  too,  that  my 
salary  that  week  was  ten  dollars  minus,  and  that  I 
deemed  it  prudent  not  to  call  attention  to  the  fact. 

After  much  traveling  with  McCaull's  company, 
and  when  business  differences  between  the  New 
York  Casino  management  and  McCaull  arose, 
necessitating  the  latter's  retirement  with  his  or- 
ganization from  that  theater,  I  was  given  an 
opportunity  to  struggle  for  that  desideratum  of 
all  artists  —  a  metropolitan  reputation.  If  it  had 
been  a  question  of  money  I  had  been  better  off 
with  McCaull ;  but  it  was  one  of  opportunity, 
and  I  went  to  the  Casino  under  the  management 
of  Mr.  Rudolph   Aronson. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  45 

I  took  with  me  the  pleasing  assurance  of  the 
Colonel's  best  wishes.  For  about  three  years  I 
had  been  with  him,  and  not  only  had  the  asso- 
ciation with  his  company  been  of  great  benelit 
to  me,  but  it  was  made  harmonious  and  delightful 
by  the  frank,  honest,  and  liberal  business  methods 
of  my  manager.  He  increased  my  salary  volun- 
tarily, and  did  all  in  his  power  to  improve  my 
prospects,  and  in  many  ways  evinced  the  inter- 
est of  a  friend  in  my  personal  and  professional 
welfare. 

Colonel  McCaull  was  a  gallant  soldier  who 
fought  all  through  "  the  late  unpleasantness "  on 
the  Southern  side.  He  was  wounded  twice,  made 
prisoner,  and  carried  to  Fort  Warren,  from  which 
he  was  pardoned  by  Abraham  Lincoln.  He  was 
ot  Scotch-Irish  extraction,  and  had  all  the  impet- 
uosity and  pugnacity  of  his  Irish  progenitor.  He 
had  been  trained  to  the  law,  and,  defending  some 
theatrical  suit,  became  interested  in  that  branch  of 
theatrical  matters  to  which  he  afterward  became 
professionally  allied,  and  which  made  his  name  so 


4^  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

favorably  known  throughout  the  United  States. 
He  was  very  proud,  and  swift  to  take  offense.  He 
was  a  sweet  friend  and  a  bitter  enemy.  His  im- 
pulsiveness often  warped  his  judgment.  He  sus- 
tained great  injuries  from  being  thrown  from  a 
carriage  —  the  ultimate  result  being  a  stroke  of 
paralysis  which  almost  deprived  him  of  articula- 
tion. He  was  patient  and  brave  through  it  all,  and 
never  for  a  single  moment  gave  any  indication  but 
that  of  complete  confidence  in  his  ultimate  re- 
covery. As  his  financial  resources  dwindled,  the 
theatrical  profession  came  to  his  assistance,  and  by 
a  single  performance  at  the  Metropolitan  Opera 
House  raised  a  sum  of  money  —  $12,000 — suffi- 
cient to  last  him  comfortably  until  his  death,  which 
took  place  November  i  i,  1894.  This  benefit  per- 
formance concluded  with  an  act  from  "  Erminie," 
in  which  Lillian  Russell,  then  in  the  height  of 
her  beauty  and  popularity,  was  the  Erminie  and 
the  writer  the   Cadeaux. 

I    made    my    first    appearance    in    the    Casino's 
new  company  as  Marsillac  in   "Nanon,"   and  later 


Recollectiofis  of  a  Player.  47 

on  appeared  in  "  Amorita,"  "  The  Gypsy  Baron," 
and   "  Erminie." 

In  this  last-named  opera  I  found  Cadeaux,  the 
cowardly  thief,  a  very  humorous  character  in  a 
remarkably  entertaining  story,  and  I  became  in- 
terested in  him  from  the  first  reading  of  the 
libretto.  I  remember  how  confident  I  was  ot  the 
success  of  the  opera  even  before  its  rehearsals 
began,  and  how  our  manager  wavered  in  his 
decision   about   producing    it. 

The  secret  of  Erminie's  success  was  that  its 
story  —  "Robert  Macaire" — is  almost  if  not  quite 
a  classic,  and  that  to  this  interesting  bit  of  French 
fiction  were  wedded  melodies  of  an  exceedingly 
tuneful  and  popular  character.  Then,  too,  this 
phase  of  light-opera  entertainment  was  new  and 
very  attractive ;  the  players  in  the  cast  were 
much  in  vogue;  and  —  the  truth  must  be  told  — 
there  was  a  pink  ball-room  scene !  Wholly  im- 
possible, monstrously  imperfect  artistically  and 
architecturally,  yet  there  it  was;  and  the  public 
worshiped  it,   and   feasted   its  eyes   upon    it,  while 


48  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

the  artist  who  painted  it  smiled  knowingly  and 
rejoiced  at  the  increased  demand  for  his  services. 
Even  at  this  day  people  speak,  of  that  skilfully 
lighted  bit  of  stage  mechanism  with  as  much 
reverent  admiration  as  of  a  Rembrandt,  a  Corot, 
or  a  Watteau.  It  is  simply  beautiful  to  see  a 
number  of  people  go  ecstatically  wrong  over 
something  hopelessly  inane.  The  great  puzzle  to 
the  manager  is  to  find  successive  things  over  which 
the  public  will  become  equally  indiscriminate. 

But  the  public  made  no  mistake  about  the  piece, 
nor  about  its  music,  and  it  is  to  be  doubted  it  any 
light  opera  has  ever  been  produced  in  America 
that  has  taken  and  retained  stronger  hold  upon 
the  affections  of  the  play-goers  than  "Ermi- 
nie."  It  had  little  success  in  London,  and  its  orig- 
inal owners  parted  with  their  rights  of  the  play 
on  easy  terms  for  America.  It  ran  on  success- 
fully here  through  the  heat  of  summer  and  the 
frost  of  winter  for  the  better  part  of  four  years. 

I  am  not  thought  to  be  a  very  good  "first-night 
actor,"  and  my  friends  say  that   my  anxiety  nearly 


RUDOLPH  ARONSON.    - 


MANAGER.  • 


Every  £TeaiBg  at  S.  Satarday  Uatinee  at  2  ^?^ 

PmsmiDiiio  for  lie  Wwt.  fnilinj  July  4tl).  1886.  \ 

e'r'mTn'i  E  . 

OPERETTA    IS   THREE   ACTS. 

Music  Ed.  Jakabowski. 

Libretto,  IIabrt  Paclton. 
Produced  onder  the  direction  of  Mr.  Harkt  PauI-TON. 

CAST    OF    CHARACTERS. 


Two    Thieves, 


ERMI.NIE 

CERISE.  ... 

PRINCESS  DK   GHAMPOSEUR 

JAVOTTE 

MARIE 

DELAl'N.W,   a  Young  Officer, 

CADEAUX,     ( 

RAVESSES 

MAKt^riS    DE    POSVEHT. 

EUGENE  .MiRCET..  The  Marquis'  Secreiary, 

CHEVALIEU  DE  BKABAZOX.  Marquis'  Guest 

DL'FOIS.  l^niiord  of  the  Lion  d  or, 

SIMON,  Waiter  at  the  Lion  dor, 

VISCOMTE    DK   BKISSAf 

SERGEANT. 


MUSIC  DIRECTOR, 


PAULINE   HALL 

MARION   MAXOLA 

JESSIE   WEATHEHSBY 

AGSES    FOLSOM 

VICTORIA   SCHILLING 

ROSE   BEAUDET 

FRANCIS  WILSON 

W,  S.   PABOLI. 

CARL    lliVING 

HARRY   PEPPER 

.     .      MAX    FKKEMAS 

MIHHY    WOODS 

A,  W.  MAFl.IN 

C.  L.  WEEKS 

E.  FURREY 

JESSE  WILI.L\MS 


Synopsis  of  Scenery. 

.*(T  L— Inn  at  Ponverl  — Hbxkv  E.   Hovt. 

ACT  II.— Th..  Pinl;  Bull  room.— IlKXKV  E.  li.ivi 

ACT  III. — Corr-fiorand  Staircase. — T.  S.  Pi.aistkd. 
Scepg,  Act  11,  copyrighted  l,y  Urtiry  t,.  Unyl.  •wA.  


toituRiei  from  oneinal  plAt..>  by  Da/ian 


feruioicr.  i-'irAS.  MfVRH. 


As»'l  St.ngc  M;.ii:iRer,     -      •     A.  W  Ma^li.^,  I  l*ro[.«rlic>. 
Stage  MachiniM.     -     -     (j.  F.  .SitKxnrioi,.  Jr.  |  <>ns  M^cltinivt. 


-    jAUGs  Kkahvn 
Jas   MctioVKWS 


ROOF  Wm  PKlJ5IEN.\yt  CU^CtRT.  AHER  THE  OPERA  THIS  EYEMNC. 

(WVatlirr  (HTUiittin^.) 
"The  WKThKK   I'lANoiitcl  here!        ~   >   I  I  c  MasuN   X   IIAMt.lN  OKi  .AX  used  heTe. 


.1  the  niu»ic  (lerformcJ  ^t  ilkis  tneairc  n< 


t  1...  i)t,i.ti(ic,l  of  piililtshcU)  .^t  l'ond\  Mukic  Store, 
n  S.Miarc,  X.  V. 


Lailm'  Toilet  Koomv  ;it  nca,!  of  l'..ilcony  .StAir>.    liciitk-nicu  s  'toilet  Koom  on  lUlcony  Moor  < 


BUFFET     KI,0OI{     lil'EN     IIP     STAIRS. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  49 

always  mars  my  efforts  on  the  original  production 
of  a  piece.  I  know  I  was  far  from  being  satisfied 
with  my  attempt  when  the  curtain  fell  on  the 
initial   representation   of  "Erminie." 

But  after  the  ordeal  was  over  I  began  to  enjoy 
the  ways  of  Cadeaux  quite  as  much  as  our  auditors 
did,  and  in  a  little  while  the  wisdom  of  em- 
bracing the  opportunity  to  play  constantly  in 
New  York  was  made  manifest.  It  was  not  a 
question  ot  how  much  my  services  were  worth, 
but  rather  what  figure  I  chose  to  place  upon 
them.  In  a  wholly  private  publication  I  may 
be  pardoned  for  mentioning  that  for  some  sea- 
sons I  was  in  receipt  of  S625  per  week  —  a 
figure  not  approached,  probably,  for  so  long  a 
period,   by  any  actor,   foreign   or  domestic. 

I  have  often  been  asked  if  I  did  not  become 
very  tired  playing  one  part  over  so  great  a  period 
of  time;  the  truthful  answer  to  which  was  that 
it  depended  upon  the  audience.  It  is  never, 
except  in  ill-health,  as  it  seems  to  me,  fatiguing 
to  an   actor  who    loves    his    art   to    play  a    role    a 

7 


so  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

thousand  times  —  if  the  audience  is  responsive. 
Lacking  the  stimulus  of  appreciative  laughter  and 
applause,  the  repetition  of  a  stage  impersonation 
must  be  a  martyrdom.  But  then,  if  this  stimulus 
be  absent  it  is  gratifying  to  reflect  that  the 
martyrdom   must  be  brief. 

During  one  of  the  numerous  souvenir  perform- 
ances of  "  Erminie,"  —  I  think  the  500th  repre- 
sentation of  the  opera  (it  may  have  been  the 
Sooth), — what  might  have  been  a  lamentable  oc- 
currence was  very  narrowly  averted.  The  house 
was  filled  to  an  overflowing  extent  with  enthu- 
siastic people.  As  the  two  thieves  Ravennes  and 
Cadeaux  came  upon  the  scene  for  the  first  time, 
there  was  a  cry  of  fire,  and  an  over-excitable  crea- 
ture in  the  gallery  dashed  noisily  down  an  un- 
used staircase  and  crashed  through  the  glass  of  the 
door  at  the  bottom.  All  was  commotion  and  sup- 
pressed excitement  at  once  —  for  not  everybody 
understood  what  had  occasioned  the  alarm. 

Ravennes  and  Cadeaux  tried  to  go  on  with  the 
lines  of  the   play,  but  little  heed  was  given  them. 


MR.  WILSON  AS   CADEAUX, 
IN  "ERMINIE  " 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  51 

and  the  tension  of  the  audience  was  increasing 
rapidly.  Out  in  the  auditorium  many  blanched 
faces  could  be  seen,  and  women  leaned  weakly 
against  each  other  and  against  their  escorts. 
Those  who  had  heard  the  alarm  were  excited, 
and  those  who  guessed  it  were  apprehensive.  It 
was  a  dreadful  moment.  Something  had  to  be 
done  to  prevent  the  threatened  stampede  which 
could  only  result  in  injury  and  loss  of  life.  The 
right  word  spoken  now  would  save  much  misery 
and  probably  many  lives. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen!"  shrieked  the  ragged 
Cadeaux  in  tones  that  commanded  attention. 
Then,  in  a  lower  key,  he  added,  "There  is  no 
danger.  Sit  down  !  If  you  behave  like  men 
and  women,  and  not  like  sheep,  a  great  danger 
will  be  averted ;  but  if  you  do  not  accept  my 
word  that  there  is  no  fire, —  that  there  is  no 
danger, —  nothing  in  the  world  can  prevent  a  great 
disaster.      Please  sit  down  !  " 

Not  everybody  obeyed,  but  enough  did  to  make 
a  diversion  in  the  state  of  affairs,  to  set  an  example 


52  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

which  could  not  but  act  beneficially,  as  it  did,  upon 
the  overcharged  imaginations  of  those  present. 

Cadeaux  knew  he  had  spoken  the  right  word 
at  the  right  time,  yet  it  would  not  have  been  half 
so  effective  but  for  the  heroic  behavior  of  a  num- 
ber of  the  most  uncompromising-looking  dudes 
who  had  been  occupying  the  front  row,  and  who, 
to  a  man,  seated  themselves,  and,  leading  the 
applause,  called,  "Go  on  with  the   performance!" 

Word  had  now  come  from  the  front  of  the 
house  that  the  smoke  from  a  passing  engine  had 
blown  into  the  theater  through  the  open  roof 
(it  was  summer),  and  that  the  fire  was  many  blocks 
away.  This  Cadeaux  further  explained  to  the 
audience,  whose  fears  were  now  greatly  allayed  and 
whose  confidence  was  somewhat  restored. 

The  edge  was  gone,  of  course,  from  the  occasion, 
and  many  of  the  more  nervous  auditors  drifted 
out  from  time  to  time.  Not  until  the  third  act 
were  the  attention  and  enjoyment  comparable 
with    those   of  other   performances  of  the   play. 

Cadeaux  spent   most  of  that   evening  outside  of 


MR.  WILSON  AND  W.  H.  DABOLL 
AS  CADEJUX  AND  RJl^ENNES,  IN  "ERMINIE." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  53 

the  words  set  down  in  his  part,  lost  in  profound 
but  puzzled  admiration  for  the  well-groomed  young 
fashionables  who  sat  in  that  front  row,  and  who 
were  not  too  well  dressed  to  act  like  men  in  a  great 
emergency. 

After  several  years  of  service  with  the  Casino  as 
Cadeaux,  I  appeared  in  "  Nadjy,"  playing  Faragus. 
In  speaking  of  "Nadjy"  I  ought  to  give  much 
credit  to  the  song  "A  Little  Peach"  for  the  de- 
lightful receptions  and  attentions  I  enjoyed  while 
playing  in  the  opera.  I  thought  the  character 
such  an  unimportant  one  that  it  was  stipulated 
with  the  management  that  I  was  to  have  the 
privilege  of  making  such  alterations  and  additions 
as  I  deemed  expedient. 

I  had  heard  Sidney  Drew,  at  a  Lambs'  Gambol, 
in  New  York,  sing  something  about  an  immature 
peach  to  a  melody  that  was  most  inviting;  and  later 
on,  in  London,  in  an  out-of-the-way  shop,  I 
bought  "A  Little  Peach,"  with  words  attributed 
to  some  English  song-writer.  Its  humor  im- 
pressed me  so  much   that   I   decided    to    introduce 


54  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

it  in  "Nadjy,"  and  Miss  Marie  Jansen  and  I  first 
sang  it  as  a  duet  in  the  Globe  Theater,  Boston,  Mr. 
John  Braham  composing  the  pretty  dancing  inter- 
lude for  us.       It  was  a  success  from  the  first   night. 

Some  weeks  later,  when  we  were  playing 
"Nadjy"  in  Chicago,  Mr.  Eugene  Field,  the 
journalist,  came  to  see  us.  After  the  performance 
he  expressed  great  surprise  to  find  that  "A  Little 
Peach,"  some  fugitive  verses  of  his  own,  con- 
tributed years  before  to  a  Western  newspaper, 
had  been   made  to   do  service  as  a  song. 

Mr.  Hubbard  T.  Smith,  of  Washington,  had 
discovered  how  well  they  could  be  utilized,  and 
had  cleverly  given  them  the  melody  that  has  done 
so  much  to  popularize  them.  Mr.  Smith  had 
found  "A  Little  Peach"  in  an  obscure  corner 
of  a  country  paper.  There  was  no  name  appended 
to  show  its  authorship,  and  though  Field  and 
Smith,  through  my  suggestion,  exchanged  letters, 
they  never  met  until  "  The  Merry  Monarch " 
company,  of  which  Mr.  Smith  was  a  member, 
played   its   first  engagement   in    Chicago. 


() 


i\  *Aj^m:  . 


Or-  Jin\/yt/vv<jt  Jhyix^  a-tt*  -*K*  ^Vt^  fe-c  «)-ict.  — 
J'dLti  finest  £ltUjL.   ^HaJ-  1-1  Cv^^jL^Xi  £\AaJl-   - 


Ja^a-j^^ijU*.  , 

t-,' 

Jt\ii  h\jLj.s,  tutXi.  &v>JUj  tc  Aiuu  CottyjAi  Jjiuir  — 


^ 


^ 


.-U«?   Vuii 


Recollections  of  a  Player,  SS 

Manager  Harry  Hamlin,  of  Chicago,  had  intro- 
duced Eugene  Field  to  me  during  the  "Nadjy" 
engagement,  when  Field  was  good  enough  to 
write  some  topical  verses  for  the  "  Go  "  song  in 
the  last-named  piece.  One  does  not  think  of 
Field  now  as  a  writer  of  topical  verses,  but  in 
those  days  he  had  no  strenuous  objections  to 
them,  and  if  I  remember  aright  they  lacked  the 
pointed  something  which  makes  the  success  of 
those  indorsements  of  popular  opinion.  Later  in 
our  acquaintance  I  tried  to  secure  Field's  consent 
to  write  the  book  for  an  opera ;  but  though  he 
was  willing  to  undertake  the  lyrics,  nothing  could 
induce  him   to  attempt  the  dialogue. 

Of  Miss  Marie  Jansen,  who  was  concerned  with 
me  in  the  popularizing  of  "A  Little  Peach,"  or 
"Johnny  Jones,"  as  we  grew  to  know  it,  let  me 
say  that  she  joined  our  forces  at  the  height  of  her 
career,  when  leaving  a  well-established  company 
for  an  untried  "  star  "  meant  a  great  deal.  I  en- 
deavored to  be  appreciative,  and  no  demand  she 
made  for  an    increase  of  emolument  was  ever  re- 


5  6  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

fused.  She  was  a  great  favorite  with  the  pubHc, 
and  had  an  archness  of  manner,  a  daintiness  and 
trimness  of  figure,  and  a  skill  and  taste  in  adorning 
it,  that  were  very  captivating. 

During  my  last  season  at  the  Casino,  becoming 
convinced  that  I  had  attained  sufficient  popularity 
as  a  player  to  warrant  such  a  move,  I  made  up 
my  mind  to  have  a  comic-opera  company  of  my 
own.  As  soon  as  my  contract  expired,  active 
preparations  were  begun  for  the  appearance  of 
my  company  at  the  Broadway  Theater,  New  York, 
in   "The  Oolah." 

The  first  night  of  "The  Oolah"  came,  and 
with  it  a  fit  of  nervousness  such  as  I  had  never  felt 
before.  I  did  not  dare  to  be  confident  of  success. 
I  just  shut  my  eyes  and  prayed  for  it. 

Surrounded  by  my  friends,  the  performance 
seemed  to  me  to  pass  off  very  successfully;  but 
when  Tuesday  morning  came,  and  I  had  read  the 
papers,  damning  me  with  faint  praise  when  they 
praised  at  all,  it  took  me  several  hours  to  dis- 
cover   any    interest    I    had    in    life.       My    friends 


O^vA^i/VW 


Recollections  of  a  Player,  57 

were  considerate,  but  there  was  no  doubt  about  a 
feeling  of  downright  disappointment  existing  on 
all  sides.  So  many  people's  opinions  are  made  up 
or  broken   up  by  the  morning  papers  ! 

There  was,  too,  a  difference  of  a  thousand  dol- 
lars in  the  receipts  from  the  first  to  the  second 
night,  and  a  corresponding  difference  in  enthusiasm. 

Before  the  production  I  had  kept  sacrilegious 
hands  from  M.  Lecocq's  score,  and  chortled  over 
the  belief  that  a  perfect  ensemble  performance  was 
what  the  public  would  praise  and  flock  to  see. 
The  adapter,  Mr.  Sydney  Rosenfeld,  with  much 
shrewdness,  had  assured  me,  too,  that  if  his 
lines  were  not  received  with  howls  of  delight  it 
would  be  because  of  my  failure  to  deliver  them 
properly. 

This  last  opinion  shifted  the  responsibility  most 
admirably.  If  I  failed,  I  would  be  blamed ;  if  I 
succeeded,  the  adapter  would  come  in  for  the 
praise. 

I  failed,  and  took  the  blame.  I  also  took  a 
large  blue  pencil  and  stabbed  holes  in  page  after 
8 


58  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

page  of  arid  and  imbecile  twaddle  that  had  passed 
muster  for  wit  and  humor. 

I  knew  I  had  not  a  bank-account  sufficiently 
plethoric  to  educate  the  public  up  to  receiving  M. 
Lecocq's  score  in  its  entirety,  and  I  plead  guilty  to 
the  infusion  of  some  whistlish  and  hummable  melo- 
dies that  set  the  audience  in  fine  humor  and  their 
feet  to  keeping  time.  The  cunning  of  another 
hand  was  tried  upon  the  libretto,  and  I  dared  to 
add  a  speech  of  my  own  here  and  there.  Each 
day  brought  changes  for  the  better.  Our  audiences 
said  we  were  not  unentertaining.  We  were  find- 
ing out  what  they  wanted,  and  the  receipts  were 
growing  apace.  For  a  month  or  more  after  the 
production  rehearsals  were  incessant;  every  line, 
every  inflection  of  speech  or  action,  was  carefully 
scanned   until  it  became  satisfactory. 

Quick  work  saved  "The  Oolah."  Mr.  Cheever 
Goodwin  sat  up  all  night  with  me  many  a  time, 
altering  scenes,  preparing  new  lyrics,  and  infusing 
fresh  life  into  our  weak  patient,  as  it  were,  and 
our  loyal  company   rehearsed   this  new  matter   for 


BROADWAY   THEATRE 

QanMT  BnmAwf,  Fb*«r-«nK  8lM«  and  BTilh  ATune. 


IffMfW. 

V    --.-     .-- 

Hr 

Fnnk  W. 

Smfr 

MONDAY, 

KAY 

t3th.I»9. 

■»M  InaiM  n  a. 

Ottrmk 

MT  MaTIHEI  *T  t 

FRANCIS  WILSON 
AND  COMPANY 

I'RESENTINO   KOK  TUt  HRST  TIME 

THE    NSW    COMIC    OPERA, 

IN  S  ACTS. 

Mtttic  by  CharlM  Lecocq. 
Libretto  <Dcrir«d  in  Pan*  fr<mi  tiii^  Firnriii  by  Sydney  RoMnfcld. 

ENnTLED. 

THE    OOLAH. 

lUtutiaunc  the  ComplexliiM  of  P«nw'»  If  Amsce  Uaws. 

CAST  OF   CHARACTKK8. 

aOOLABOOOLAH,  the  Oolkb Kb.  FRASCIS  WILSON 

THE  PRINCE  OF  KIM \  EN   ,. Urn.  HCBERT  WILKE 

AKHAlJ'.AKEK.  a  w^tthv  mnchail MB.  CHARLES  PLCNKBTT 

NEDJEr.  Iiw  loii-iB-Uw Mb.  THOMAS  H.  PER8SE 

THE  CADI m.  HARRY  M.\CDONOUOB 

THE  FIG  DE.\LEB f  1 MR.  BENJ    F.  JOSLYN 

THE  BARBER 13m  Mr.  CARLO  SEl.ELINI 

THE  TAILOR Ookh*!       Mb.  W.  CARR 

THE  WATCHMAN FMcndi.        Uk.  HENRY  Hon-MAN 

THE  DAKEK ^ Mb.  H.  LEDBURY 

D.UtINOORA,<Uughlerot  Aktulxakek .'. HiSfi  LAURA  UuORE 

BAMPOORA.  betroUied  to  th*  OoUli Mise  ELM  A   DELARO 

ALTilpRA M1B6  IDA  Fir/JlUOU 

8HIMRANA Mias  IDA  EI8KING 

^ELIS MBS  JOeiE  WINNER 


TOUROCLOrPI,  the  CorU»  wif  • Mas  MARIE  JANSEN 

Di^itaries.  Mcrchanu,  Witer-carriora.  Dnncing  Girls.  Trad««peopl«. 
P««aaa(«,  SUrei.  ric 

THK   8CENC8. 

iSpeciallr  ]kaint«d  br  Mevn.  Goatrhrr  and  Yoasg.) 
ACT  1,— Public  Place  in  a  I'eraian  Villnice  n«*r  Teheran.     Tlie  Oolah'a  abod*. 
ACT  It.— lDt«rior  of  ALlialzakck's  Residence. 
ACT  IIL— Public  Bazaar  in  Teheran. 

NoTB.— The  nudience  are  |iolitclr  rmiuesto-l  to  be   in  their  wots  nt  ^  P.  M 
promptly,  aft  the  iin|«orDint  incidents  of  th«  ojxca  bi-gin  with  the  rise  of  thecurliiin, 


HR.  A.  H.  CANBY.  Manager  Francis  Wilson  and  Company. 

Tll^  PRODtCnOS  tnlDER  TOE   DiRBKTIOS  OF 

MR.    RICHARD    BARKER, 

From  tlip  Savoy  Theatre,   London. 


Dn^CTOB  OP  TBE  Obchbstra,  SIOIIoR  a.  DE  NOVELUS 


CostuiuM  by  W.  DaBian  &  Co. 


Peiruqvier  to  FraticU  \ViL»un  and  Company.  Mb.  CBAM.BS  Mbyeb. 


UcchanicaJ  Ettevta  by  Mest«its.  PlLLOTr  and  Wyknk. 


V  PropOTtifs  and  Elatwratlona  by  Wiluaji  Hkucy  and  AMualanta. 

Q— and  Electriral  EITerU  by  Jas.  Sivwakt  and  Assiwauts!  ~ 

lltfAOE  JtA^AGEET"^       ^       T       I       ^1       ^"^^^H^Tvii^k^  E.  Lam, 


Recollections  of  a  Flayer.  59 

hours  to  get  it  ready  for  insertion  in  the  same 
evening's   performance. 

I  astounded  our  musical  director,  Signer  De 
NovelHs,  when  I  ordered  him  to  play  a  new 
finale,  the  orchestral  arrangement  to  which  had 
just  come  to  hand  as  a  performance  began. 
He  pleaded  that  it  could  not  be  done  —  the  thing 
was  next  to  an  impossibility;  and  even  if  it 
should  be  played,  the  result  would  be  discord  and 
disgrace.  But  it  was  done,  after  all,  for  the  music 
was  rehearsed  beneath  the  stage,  and  the  applause 
that  greeted  the  finale  when  the  curtain  fell  as- 
sured us  that  we  had  pleased  our  audience  even 
more  than  we   had  dared   to  hope. 

Some  of  our  new  music  was  written  by  a  com- 
poser while  he  was  being  whirled  away  to  Chicago 
on  the  Pennsylvania  "Limited"  train,  he  having 
been  called  suddenly  to  the  West.  We  would  n't 
let  him  give  us  a  negative  answer ;  so  he  scrib- 
bled the  score  on  the  train,  and  handed  the 
manuscript  to  a  messenger  awaiting  him  at  Pitts- 
burg, who  hurried  back  to  New  York  and  placed 


6o  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

it  in  our  hands.  The  following  evening  the  song 
was  applauded  by   the  audience. 

Mr.  Dion  Boucicault  said  he  would  be  glad  to 
see  the  performance,  and  would  be  willing  to  give 
me  the  benefit  of  his  judgment. 

"  I  have  seen  worse  performances  run  three 
months  in  London,"  said  he  on  the  fall  of  the 
curtain. 

"The  Oolah "  was  played  at  the  Broadway 
Theater  over  six  months,  to  more  than  prosperous 
receipts. 

During  the  engagement  of  "The  Oolah"  at  the 
Globe  Theater,  in  Boston,  I  had,  as  Boswell  said 
of  Johnson,  "the  happiness  to  obtain  the  acquain- 
tance of  that  extraordinary  man,"  Joseph  Jefferson. 

He  came  to  see  the  performance,  and  his  pres- 
ence gave  me  much  uneasiness.  He  sat  in  the 
box  with  Mrs.  John  Drew,  and  was  joined  later 
by  William  J.  Florence  —  all  three  of  them  then 
associated   in  playing   Sheridan's   "Rivals." 

I  remember  as  distinctly  as  if  it  were  yesterday, 
instead    of  seven    years    ago,    how    "Rip"    melted 


Mr.  Wilson  as  THE   OOLAH. 

r. 


j.  Cheever  Goodwin. 


As  GIUSEPPE, 

IN    "     ThIC     GONDOI.IKRS. " 


As  M  ELLIS  EN, 
IN    "  'I'hf;    1)i;vii,'.s    Dki'Uty." 


Recollections  of  a  Flayer.  6 1 

into  a  most  appreciative  auditor,  and  how  he  gave 
himself  over  to  undignified  posture  in  a  con- 
vulsion of  laughter  when  "The  Oolah"  fa  matri- 
monial broker)  declared  that  he  had  been  married 
a  hundred  and  sixteen  times  and  had  never  been 
deceived  once,  and  that  he  had  known  men  who 
were  married  once  and  had  been  deceived  a  hun- 
dred and  sixteen  times.  This  and  the  lines  come 
to  me  all  the  more  vividly  because  it  was  from 
this  particular  point  in  the  play  that  my  ease 
and   comfort   in   it  began. 

Mr.  Jefferson  sent  his  son  "Tom"  to  ask  me 
if  I  would  come  to  the  box-office  of  the  Park 
Theater,  just  opposite  the  Globe,  before  perform- 
ance time,  and  I  need  scarcely  add  that  I  gladly 
availed  myself  of  the  opportunity.  Florence, 
whom  I  had  known  years  before  (who  did  not 
know  "Billy"  Florence!),  was  present,  and  there 
were  jokes,  anecdotes,  and  witticisms  until  the  re- 
spective managers  drove  all  the  "star"  boys  back 
to  their  desks  in   the  school   of  entertainment. 

In  1896   the  pleasure  was   mine  to   play  in   the 


62  Recollections  of  a  Player, 

All  Star  "Rivals"  Company  the  role  of  David  to 
Jefferson's  Bob  and  Mrs.  Drew's  Mrs.  Malaprop. 
Julia  Marlowe  was  the  Lydia,  Fanny  Rice  the 
Lucy,  Robert  Taber  the  Captain  Absolute,  Joseph 
and  E.  M.  Holland  the  Faulkland  and  Fag,  Nat 
Goodwin  the  Sir  Lucius,  and  W.  H.  Crane  the 
Sir  Anthony.  This  unusual  gathering  of  promi- 
nent stage-folk  played  "The  Rivals"  four  weeks 
throughout  the  country,  not  over  two  perform- 
ances being  given  in  any  one  place.  We 
traveled  by  special  train,  and  were  accorded 
ovations  of  a  most  brilliant  kind  —  social  as  well 
as  professional  —  in   nearly   every  city  visited. 

It  was  during  the  run  of  "The  Oolah"  in 
New  York  that  two  well-known  actors  came  to 
the  theater  one  evening  and  asked  if  they  could 
be  accommodated  with  seats.  It  was  regretted 
that  the  boxes  were  all  sold.  They  replied  that 
the  determination  to  come  had  been  sudden,  that 
they  had  been  a  bit  morose,  had  wished  to  laugh, 
and  would  be  content  with  seats  in  any  part  of 
the   house.      They  were   given    the    only    available 


MR.  WILSON   AS   DAVW, 
IN  "THE    RIVALS." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  63 

places,  the  second  row  of  the  balcony,  and 
being  prominent  characters,  they  were  narrowly 
observed  by  the  attaches  as  well  as  by  those  of 
the  auditors  who  recognized  them.  Their  en- 
joyment was  reported  as  unusual.  The  following 
morning  the  cleaner  found  under  the  seats  they 
had  occupied   two  huge  cones  of  peanut  shells. 

Aside  from  complimentary  considerations,  there 
has  always  been  to  me  a  mingling  ot  pathos  and 
drollery  in  the  thought  of  these  two  men,  Edwin 
Booth  and  Lawrence  Barrett,  who  had  grown  gray 
in  the  public's  service,  seeking  to  revive  the  pleasures 
of  their  youth,  and  coming,  refreshment  in  hand, 
not  to  entertain,  but  to  be  entertained.  No  sou- 
venir the  writer  owns  is  dearer  to  him  than  the 
letters  of  these  two  artists  written  about  this  time. 

After  the  New  York  engagement,  "The  Oolah  " 
played  an  extremely  successful  season  of  twenty- 
nine  additional  weeks  in  Boston,  Philadelphia, 
Chicago,  Washington,  Baltimore,  and  so  on,  during 
the  latter  portion  of  which,  at  Philadelphia,  Gilbert 
and  Sullivan's  "The  Gondoliers"  was  played. 


64  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

The  English  reports  of  the  success  of  "The 
Gondoliers"  led  us  all  to  believe  that  its  career 
here  would  be  an  exceedingly  brilliant  one.  Others, 
again,  assert  that  what  chance  it  ever  had  of  suc- 
cess was  cruelly  thwarted  by  the  inadequacy  of 
the  caste  of  the  R.  D'Oyley  Carte  company  in 
New  York. 

But  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  the  cause  of  its 
failure  lay  deeper  than  that  —  namely,  in  the 
ignorance  of  the  general  American  public  of  the 
themes  satirized  by  Mr.  Gilbert.  Gilbert's  wit 
was  as  polished  as  of  yore,  and  his  humor  quite  as 
quaint,  and,  though  we  mildly  reproached  him  for 
thrumming  again  on  that  incessant  topsy-turvy- 
dom  string,  we  could  not  accept  him  at  all  in 
"The  Gondoliers"  for  presuming  to  say  droll 
things  upon  subjects  of  which  most  of  us  were 
ignorant.  With  us  in  Philadelphia,  where  the 
delightful  music  of  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  had  taken 
fast  hold  of  the  people,  the  patronage,  while  not 
overflowing,  was  sufficiently  ample  to  guarantee 
against  loss. 


^ 

1 

■ 

i 

•M 

^MB   ' 

1 

1 

\m 

[^ 

« 

MR.  WILSON  AS   AT/TVG  ^7V50  7^., 
IN  "THE   MERRY  MONARCH." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  65 

Once,  on  Thursday,  April  17,  we  invaded  New 
York  with  our  company  and  the  opera,  and  were 
received  with  nothing  more  serious  than  a  crowded 
house,  cheers,  waving  handkerchiefs,  and  a  great 
deal  of  applause.  This  was  at  a  matinee ;  we 
played  that  night  in  Philadelphia.  So  closed  the 
season  of  1889-90. 

This  brings  me  to  the  consideration  of  "The 
Merry  Monarch."  It  was  intended  to  call  this 
operetta  "The  Lucky  Star,"  and  the  name  was  duly 
copyrighted.  I  had  this  book,  together  with  half 
a  dozen  others,  when  the  consideration  of  "The 
Oolah"  production  was  in  hand,  and  decided  on  the 
latter  only  because  of  the  great  amount  of  news- 
paper attention  it  had  received  in  advance. 

I  remember,  in  connection  with  the  preparation 
of  "The  Merry  Monarch,"  that  Percy  Anderson, 
the  English  water-color  artist,  who  did  the  sketches 
for  the  costumes,  told  me  how  he  had  worked 
upon  a  dress  for  one  of  the  London  theaters  a 
gorgeous  train  of  peacock  feathers,  and  that  the 
whole   costume   had   been    thrown   into    the    street 

9 


66  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

by  the  manager,  who  refused  to  allow  so  unlucky  a 
thing  as  a  peacock  feather  in  his  theater.  Ander- 
son asked  me  if  I  had  any  superstition  in  regard  to 
feathers,  etc.,  that  I  wished  him  to  respect  in  the 
sketches. 

I  replied  that  I  had  been  married  on  Friday 
to  show  my  contempt  for  the  petty  superstition 
concerning  that  day,  and  so  far  from  objecting  to 
the  peacock's  plumage,  I  insisted  upon  a  stunning 
robe  of  the  kind  for  the  Princess  in  the  second  act. 
He  was  delighted,  and  from  the  sketch  he  sent  of 
the  robe  there  was  made  a  magnificent  train  liber- 
ally bedecked  with  the  feathers  of  the  bird  of 
unlucky  omen. 

Just  a  few  days  before  the  opening,  the  stage 
manager  came  to  me  and  asked  rather  feelingly  if 
I  had  noticed  anything  strange  in  the  second  scene. 

I  had  n't. 

"  Good  heavens,  Wilson,  have  n't  you  observed 
that  Hoyt  has  painted  peacock  feathers  ]n^i  over  the 
throne?" 

This  was  too  much  for  me,  and  I  laughed  out- 


MR.  WILSON  AND  CHARLES  PLUNKETT 
IN  "THE  MERRY  MONARCH." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  67 

right.  It  was  in  vain  to  tell  him  I  could  n't  see 
how  a  feather  was  going  to  influence  future  events, 
and  that  if  I  had  to  succeed  by  bowing  to  super- 
stition I  preferred  to  fail ;  he  only  shook,  his  head 
and  gave  me  a  stare  which  said  more  plainly  than 
words  that  I  had  no  appreciation  of  the  awfulness 
of  the  matter,  and  that  I  was  deliberately  carrying 
a  corpse  into  what  had  promised  to  be  a  festival. 

When  the  curtain  fell  on  the  first  night  of 
"The  Merry  Monarch,"  and  congratulations  were 
rife,  the  manager  rushed  to  me,  and,  placing  both 
hands  on   my  shoulders,  he  said, 

"Well,  Wilson,  old  man,  we  have  a  great  suc- 
cess  ! 

I  could  not  help  saying, 

"Yes,  Barker,  peacock  feathers  and  all!" 

I  had  greater  confidence  in  the  success  of  "  The 
Merry  Monarch "  than  in  any  piece  in  which  I 
have  been  concerned  either  before  or  since  its  pro- 
duction. There  were  not  wanting  a  few  who 
questioned  the  probability  of  its  being  a  hit, —  and 
an    unfortunate    contretemps  at   the  dress  rehearsal 


68 


Recollections  of  a  Player. 


added  something  of  the  element  of  doubt  to  the 
minds  of  those  who  witnessed  it, —  but  I  never 
wavered  for  an  instant,  and  I  remember  to  have 
sat  in  the  box-office  watching  the  last-row  seats 
disappear  from  the  ticket-rack  until  ten  minutes 
of  eight.  In  a  sanguine  mood  one  permits  his 
fancy  to  wing  its  flight  to  kaleidoscopic  realms  of 
good-fortune,  but  my  fondest  imagination  never 
pictured  forth  such  splendid  returns  as  this  opera 
gave  us. 

During  the  second  season  of  "The  Merry  Mon- 
arch "  at  the  Broadway  Theater,  and  while  we  were 
rehearsing  its  successor,  "The  Lion  Tamer,"  a  young 
girl  sought  a  position  in  the  chorus.  I  heard  her 
sing  after  the  matinee  performance.  Accompanied 
by  the  musical  director,  she  sang  in  the  hallway 
of  my  dressing-room,  while  I,  often  bothered  by 
such  applicants,  set   the  door  ajar  to  listen. 

The  voice  was  sweetly  sympathetic,  and  when 
I  had  dressed  I  called  the  singer  in  for  further 
consideration.  I  was  surprised  to  find  her  a  tallish, 
thin    girl    with    ankle    skirts,   and    a  pair  of  wide. 


BROADWAY   THEATRE, 

Caner  Broadwmr.  Foftr-fint  Street  and  Seventh  Areone. 

Handsomest  and  Safest  TUeatre  in  the  World. 

MANAGEK        ....     MR.  FRANK  W,  SANGER 


MOXDA  T,  A  VG  VST  18th.      ^  C 

BEGIXNIXO  OF  THE 
SECOND  XJitiVXl.  ENGAGEMENT 

FRANCIS  WILSON  AND  COMPANY 

I"RE.SENT1XG  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME 

«  NEW  COMIC  OPERA  IN  3  ACTS,  ENTITLED, 

THE  MERRY  MONARCH. 


LibrenobT j.  iHEEVER  GOODWIN 

Ui^cbr EMILE  CHABKIER  and  WOOLSON  MORSE 

CAST    OF    CHARACTERS. 

KING  ANSO  IV..  ti>^  M-rrv  Monan-h       >[r.  FR.\NCIS  WILSON 

BIROCO.  tl»*  Roval  A»«irolQSPr Mr.  CHAS.  PLUNKETT 

HEBISSON.  AiikhaH^i.lor  Extraorlinarv.  «ic  Mi.  GILBERT  CLAYTON 

KEDAS.  Minivtrr.*f  P.h-e    M«.  H4RRY  M.\Crx)NOL'GH 

TAPIOCA.  PrtcarvS^rrlurT  I  >  Htfri^xi. Ma,  WILLET  SEAMAN 

HIGH  CHAMRERLVIN     Mb.  B.  K  JOSLYN 

LILITA-  Prin  V.I  R  >v'al.  tM>trotti«.l  [•>  King  Aiuo.   . .  .Miss  LAL'RA  MOOKB 

AL^ES.  MaiJ  in  Waitine  to  th«>  Priucvyt ..Miss  NETTIF:  LYKORD 

OASi-^.Ti>;t  M*i<li.f  Honor MissCEcILE  EIS-SINO 

IDRA.Seoon.1  Mild  of  Honor Miss  BELLE  HaHTZ 

A.XD 

LAZCU.  a  Travriiog  Pe<Uer  of  Perfumery Miss  MARIE  JANSES 

Dij^nitAriefi,  Civitinob.  Amazon  Guanli<,  Ladies  of  the  Court, 
DanoiD^  <>iTla,  Pants,  elc. 

THE    SCENES. 

ACT  I. — A  Public  Pl«ce  in  lodiA.  beforr  Siroco's  ObaerratorT  (Homer  F. 

Emm<>Ds>. 
ACT  II  — Thf  Hall  of  the  Statues,  in  King  Ao«>*b  Palace  rHeorv  E.  Hoyt). 
ACT  in.— The  CorriJor  of  tlie  Eleptiimtd  io  Kicg  Ahm's  Palace  tHeorj  E. 

HoTt  and  T.  S.  Plaistedi. 

DiBECTOR  or  THE  Mcsic.       '-       '-       SIGNOR  A.  DE  NOVELLIS. 
t  The  OPER.i  Produced  csper  tbe  STM:r  Directios  of 

MR.  RICHARD  BARKER. 

CostumirS.  W.  Daziji.^  &  Co.,  Sew  York. 

Costume  Deugne  by  Perc\'  A>dbrsun.  of  London. 

Properties,  Edward  Seidle. 

Perruquier,  Charles  Meyer. 

Ballet  Master.  Pitor.  Maxbrt  BiBKYBUC. 


Manager  Francia  Wilson  and  Company.         •         -  MR.  A.  H.  CANBY 

Treasurer  Francim  Wilson  and  Coropany,         MR.  CHAS.  N.  RICHARDS 

SPECIAL    NOTICE. 

The  Managers  wish  to  announce  tkat  in  deference  to  what  they 
believe. to  be  the  wishes  of  the  disinterested  spectators,  no  Djwers 
will  be  passed  to  the  artists  over  the  footlights.  Sach  as  may  be 
offered  will  be  most  willingly  received  by  the  employees  in  the  andi- 
torium,  and  sent  to  the  suge  door  to  the  members  of  the  company  at 
the  close  of  the  performance. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  69 

sober-like  eyes.  She  had  on  a  blue-black  round 
straw  hat,  underneath  which  was  a  row  of  very 
girlish  dark-brown   curls. 

I  had  remarked  that  when  she  had  concluded 
her  song  there  was  a  burst  of  applause  from  the 
iron  galleries  leading  to  the  dressing-rooms,  and 
I  knew,  too,  that  chorus  people  were  never  very 
enthusiastic  over  possible  additions  to  their  ranks. 

Another  very  favorable  and  exceedingly  unusual 
thing  was  that  she  did  not  seek  a  principal  position 
in  the  company.  Nearly  all  applicants  for  comic- 
opera  honors  who  have  never  had  the  slightest  ex- 
perience upon  the  stage  seek  chief  positions,  and 
I  have  always  regarded  this  fact  as  a  compliment 
to  the  skill  which  makes  these  performances  appear 
as  if  done  on  the  spur  of  the  moment. 

As  rehearsals  progressed  the  young  lady  showed 
such  industry  and  positive  aptitude  for  her  chosen 
career  that  she  was  made  the  understudy  of  Miss 
Jansen,  and  I  was  startled  to  learn  from  the  stage- 
manager  that  she  had  committed  the  words,  music, 
and  intricate  business  of  the  role  in  two  days. 


7°  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

She  was  sent  to  a  private  tutor  in  dancing,  and 
much  personal  instruction  and  attention  given  her. 
She  labored  faithfully  and  indefatigably. 

I  watched  her,  without  being  seen,  from  the 
front  of  the  theater  —  at  rehearsals  —  and  made  up 
my  mind  that  if  properly  guided  and  given  the  op- 
portunity she  would  make  a  name  for  herself. 

The  opportunity  came  sooner  than  expected,  and 
when  told  she  would  be  obliged  to  play  Miss  Jan- 
sen's  role,  because  of  that  lady's  illness,  she  very 
promptly  fainted.  There  was  no  doubt  now  that 
she  had  the  proper  sense  of  responsibility,  and  it 
served  more  than  ever  to  convince  me  of  her  fit- 
ness for  a  dramatic  career.  On  the  retirement  of 
Miss  Jansen  from  the  company,  shortly  after,  her 
place  was  permanently  filled  by  this  ambitious,  de- 
termined, and  exceedingly  clever  chorus-girl  — 
Miss  Lulu  Glaser.  Miss  Glaser's  career  serves  to 
demonstrate  what  may  be  accomplished  with  ap- 
titude,  determination,   industry, —  and    opportunity. 

Not  discouraged  by  their  previous  visit  to  see 
"The    Oolah,"    Mr.    Booth    and    Mr.   Barrett   ap- 


t^AjJ    ^^yUiiX^'iL'LyL 


/ 


^7 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  7 1 

plied  in  time  for  seats  to  "  The  Merry  Monarch," 
and  a  box  was  sent  to  them.  Their  evident  ap- 
preciation made  the  writer  very  proud  and  the 
evening  to  him  a  memorable  one.  Later  from 
Mr.    Booth   came  the   following : 

Phila.,  Nov.  17th,  '90. 
My  dear  Mr.  Wilson  : 

It  pleases  me  very  much  to  comply  with  your 
request  since  it  affords  me  an  opportunity  to  say 
what  I  meant  to  say  many  weeks  ago,  but  did  n't, 
anent  your  delightful  performance  of  the  "  Merry 
Monarch."  Mr.  Barrett  and  I  both  convulsively 
enjoyed  it,  and  I  think,  seriously  of  borrowing 
your  first  entrance  *  for  that  of  Richelieu  in  Act  4th 
where  he  threatens  the  "curse  of  Rome."  May  I  } 
Your  freedom  from  all  effort  is  admirable. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Edwin  Booth. 

*  The  entrance  consisted  in  making  a  false  step  from  a  palanquin  borne 
on  the  shoulders  of  four  slaves,  and  landing  promiscuously  at  the  foot  of 
the  royal  steps. 


72  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

In  the  spring  and  summer  of  this  year,  1892, 
a  successful  engagement  was  played  at  Baldwin's 
Theater,  San  Francisco,  two  stops  being  made  en 
route  —  Omaha  and  Salt  Lake   City. 

The  season  of  1892-93  was  devoted  to  "The 
Lion  Tamer,"  and  1893-94  to  a  very  costly  revival 
of  "Erminie" — some  $27,000  being  expended  on 
its  production,  including  $5000  for  the  purchase 
outright  of  the  opera  from  Willie  Edouin  and 
Violet  Melnotte,  who  had  purchased  it  from 
Harry  Paulton  and  E.  Jakobowski,  the  librettist 
and  composer  respectively. 

It  was  to  be  regretted  that  I  could  not  have  had 
the  advantage  of  the  services  of  Mr.  Daboll,  the 
original  Ravennes,  in  this  revival  —  "my  old  col- 
lege-puddin'  chummy";  but  it  was  not  to  be,  for, 
always  an  eccentric  man,  like  the  original  Robert 
Macaire, —  the  great  French  actor  Frederick  Le- 
maitre, —  Daboll  ere  this,  in  a  lit  of  despondency, 
had  committed  suicide. 

In  1894-95,  "The  Devil's  Deputy"  was  given, 
the     opening    being     at    Abbey's     Theater,     New 


"JOHN"  AND  "JESS," 
THE   CHERUBS   IN  "THE    MERRY   MONARCH." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  73 

York.  The  piece,  like  all  its  predecessors,  was 
from  the  French.  The  music  was  composed  by 
E.  Jakobowski,  of  "Erminie"  fame.  Though  not 
up  to  Jakobowski's  previous  effort,  the  piece  was 
a  great  laughing  success. 

Aside  from  the  success  of  this  piece,  I  shall 
always  remember  it  vividly  because  ot  a  curious 
incident  in  connection  with  the  first  performance, 
when  the  audience  was  kept  laughing  for  fully 
five  minutes  (a  long  period  in  stage  time)  by  a 
scene  between  the  bogus  singer  and  the  Princess, 
in  the  second  act,  when  the  two  characters  meet 
for  the  first  time.  Not  one  word  of  the  greater 
part  of  this  tent  or  canopy  scene  was  rehearsed 
or  so  much  as  dreamed  of  beforehand.  The 
suggestion  which  led  us  off  in  an  unrehearsed 
direction  came  from  the  unexpected  laughter 
caused  by  the  remark  "  I  only  live  to  sing  !  " 
Nearly  the  whole  of  the  day  following  was  spent, 
successfully,  in  trying  to  remember,  so  as  to  be 
able  to  repeat,  the  words  and  effects  of  the  pre- 
ceding night's  flash. 
lo 


74  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

"The  Chieftain,"  by  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan  and 
A.  C.  Burnand,  of  Punch  celebrity,  followed  in 
1895-96.  Except  perhaps  for  "The  Merry  Mon- 
arch," the  press  had  never  been  more  unanimous 
in  praise  of  anything  we  had  given  the  public. 
We  were  patted  on  the  back  by  everybody,  and 
told  that  we  had  made  a  new  and  exceedingly 
artistic  departure,  and  that  our  monetary  returns 
were  sure  to  exceed  any  we  had  yet  had.  Our 
artistic  career  was  rounded,  and  would  assuredly 
be  crowned  with  extraordinary  results. 

People  praised  us  extravagantly,  but  they  were  so 
chary  about  coming  to  see  us  that  our  season  was 
the  worst  we  had  ever  known  since  we  began  our 
managerial  career.  There  may  have  been  some 
excuse  in  the  financial  condition  of  the  country  — 
there  assuredly  was  something  in  the  weakness  of 
the  development  of  the  plot  —  the  promise  of  con- 
sistently humorous  complications  made  in  the  first 
act  not  being  kept  in  the  second  and  final  act  of 
the  play;  but  the  fact  remains  that  all  our  artistic 
efforts  availed  us  naught  —  financially. 


MR.  WILSON  AS  PETER    GRIGGS, 
IN  "THE  CHIEFTAIN." 


MR.  WILSON  AS   TIRECHJPPE, 
IN  "HALF  A  KING." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  75 

The  season  of  1896-97  was  devoted  to  "Half 
a  King,"  which  began  its  existence,  in  English, 
at  the  Knickerbocker  (late  Abbey's)  Theater,  in 
New  York,  where  it  played  two  months  to  an 
unusually  large  attendance.  It  is  from  the  French 
ot  Chivot  and  Duru,  the  music  being  newly  com- 
posed by  Ludwig  Englander.  Some  anxiety  was 
felt  about  it  because  of  the  departure  made  in  the 
introduction  of  a  touch  of  homely  pathos  here  and 
there.  But  this  was  well  received,  and  the  fun 
thought  to    be  enhanced  thereby. 

Few  people  seriously  consider  what  the  modern 
production  of  comic  opera  means  —  what  care, 
what  nerve-expending  force,  what  labor,  what 
thought,  experience,  and  expense,  it  involves  !  A 
friend  whose  books  on  art  and  travel  are  widely 
read  wrote  recently  upon  the  matter,  and  I  can- 
not refrain  from  quoting : 

"  I  am  glad  I  have  seen  you  three  times  in  this 
play — 'Haifa  King.'  I  have  seriously  considered 
it,  and  I  believe  I  begin  to  appreciate  what  it 
means  for  you  to  produce  it  as  you  do.      It  is  all 


7^  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

very  absurd  and  whimsical  when  one  looks  at  it 
simply  to  be  amused  ;  but  when  one  looks  into  it 
interiorly,  and  wonders  how  it  all  can  have  come 
about  just  as  it  is,  then  the  thought,  the  labor,  and 
the  absolute  genius  that  have  gone  into  it  appear, 
and  the  realization  of  what  you  have  gone  through 
with  it  comes. 

"Never  before  have  I  gone  below  the  surface  of 
such  a  production.  When  one  sees  it  first,  the 
only  impression  is  that  there  has  been  no  study, 
that  each  and  all  are  doing  just  as  they,  being  such 
as  they  are,  would  naturally  do — just  as  one  reads 
the  '  Biglow  Papers,'  and  has  to  reflect  a  good  deal 
before  comprehending  that  Mr.  Lowell  —  being 
himself — should  have  written   them  so  well." 

The  great  compliment  here  is  the  remark  that 
the  only  impression  is  that  there  has  been  no  study. 
It  is  for  just  that  particular  object  —  to  avoid  the 
appearance  of  effort,  to  prevent  the  wheels  of  the 
machinery  from  being  seen  —  that  so  much  care 
is  taken. 

It    is    quite    possible,   on    reading    the    book    or 


MR.  WILSON,  MISS  GLASER,  AND  MR.  LANG 
IN  "HALF  A  KING." 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  77 

libretto,  or  at  the  outset  of  the  rehearsals,  to  form 
some  judgment  as  to  how  such  and  such  a  scene 
or  effect  will  strike  an  audience ;  but  as  the 
hour  for  the  initial  performance  approaches,  the 
nervous  tension  has  so  increased,  the  sense  of 
responsibility  has  grown  so  great,  from  constant 
repetition  and  mental  and  bodily  fatigue,  that,  like 
the  overworked  artist,  one  becomes  nearly  color- 
blind, and  quite  incapable  of  decision  on  vital 
points  without  frequent  recurrences  to  first  im- 
pressions. The  musical  conductor,  jealous  of 
every  note  of  the  score,  is  confident  that  the  stage 
director  is  arbitrarily  omitting  certain  musical 
phrases;  while  the  stage  director,  looking  chiefly 
to  the  action  of  the  piece,  is  equally  confident 
that  the  musical  conductor  has  anarchistic  views 
and  is  secretly  inciting  the  chorus   to  rebellion. 

No  funnier  episode  ever  came  under  my  obser- 
vation than  that  of  a  violent  outbreak  between  our 
stage  director  and  musical  conductor  during  the  re- 
hearsals of  the  second  production  of  "Erminie." 
The  stage  director,  exasperated  at  what  he  deemed 


7 8  Recollections  of  a  Player. 

the  unwarrantable  behavior  of  the  musical  con- 
ductor, applied  an   opprobrious  epithet  to   him. 

Instantly  all  was  confusion,  and  the  rehearsal 
stopped  until  the  manager  should  appear  upon  the 
scene  and  decide  upon  the  matter.  These  bicker- 
ings had  been  going  on  for  some  time,  and  had 
become  very   annoying. 

I  was  met  at  the  door  by  the  stage  director,  who 
quietly  explained  the  situation,  and  expressed  his 
willingness  to  make  the  amende  honorable  "as  soon 
as  that  excitable  Italian  [the  musical  conductor] 
subsided,"  but  that  he  would  not  be  bullied  into 
apologizing. 

The  musical  conductor  was  frenzied.  He  had  a 
big  stick,  and  was  pacing  up  and  down  the  back 
of  the  stage,  muttering,  while  he  shook  the  stick 
threateningly : 

"I  will  keel-a  heem  !      I  will  keel-a  heem !  " 

When  he  was  pacified  sufficiently  to  speak,  he 
said  he  had  been  grossly  affronted  before  his 
"chorus  peopler,"  and  he  demanded  an  apology 
equally  public. 


Recollections  of  a  Player.  79 

I  said  that  I  could  not  permit  these  petty  quar- 
rels to  interfere  with  business  matters,  and  that  if 
there  were  any  private  differences  they  should  be 
settled  privately  ;   I  could  not  interfere. 

"  You  giver  me  de  permish  to  forcer  heem  to 
apologizer  here — after  de  rehears'ler  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;    certainly." 

"  Very  well-a."  (Very  excitedly.)  "  He  must-a 
apologizer,  or   I  keel-a  heem  !  " 

I  knew  the  conductor  to  be  anything  but  as 
fierce  as  he  looked  ;  that  he  was,  in  fact,  a  great, 
big,  artistic,  good-natured,  affectionate  son  of  Na- 
ples ;  and  I  thought  his  anger  would  disappear 
after  the  repetition  of  a  few  songs  and  choruses. 

The  rehearsal  proceeded  rather  ominously,  and 
when  it  was  over  I  was  surprised  to  see  our  musical 
friend  grab  up  a  big  cane,  and,  going  to  the  back 
of  the  stage,  close  to  the  door  through  which  the 
stage  director  must  pass,  begin  to  pace,  Othello- 
like, to  and  fro. 

We  became  alarmed,  and  I  stood  close  at  hand 
to  check,  if  possible,  any  sudden   outbreak.      I  be- 


8o  Recollections  of  a  Flayer. 

gan  to  fear  I  had  been  mistaken  in  my  estimate  of 
our  Italian  friend. 

All  was  hushed  in  dreaded  expectation.  The 
stage  director  alone  was  cool,  and  we  wondered 
what  on  earth  would  happen  when  he  should  have 
finished  lighting,  in  the  most  imperturbable  man- 
ner,  his  cigarette. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  the  stage  direc- 
tor's wife  appeared  and  said  sweetly,  "  I  was  shop- 
ping, dear,  and  dropped  in  to  take  you  home." 

And  together  the  unmolested  stage  director  and 
his  wife  made  their  exit. 

With  a  big  sigh  of  relief,  and  a  face  that  ex- 
pressed it,  the  conductor  turned  and  dramatically 
exclaimed  : 

"  Locky  for  heem  hees  wife  she  came ;  she 
saveder  hees  life  !  " 

Then  such  a  shout  of  laughter  went  up  from  us 
all  as  would  deafen  the  report  of  a  gun. 

The  stage  director  made  a  suitable  apology  to 
the  conductor  before  rehearsal  began  next  morn- 
ing, and  at  the  close  of  the  day's  labor  I  saw  them. 


.y^ 


Recollections  of  a  Player. 


8i 


arm  in  arm,  each  trying  to  declare  first  that  no 
play  could  possibly  succeed  without  "a  jolly  good 
row"  before  its  production. 

"Half  a  King,"  because  of  its  success,  made  up 
the  repertoire  for  the  season  of  1897-98. 

The    next    production But    who    with    a 

dash  of  the  pen  can  disperse  the  mists  of  the 
future  ? 


II 


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